Glass Hearts
by mockingjaylover98
Summary: 'I've loved you for a long time, Peeta! I'm sorry it took me so long to realize it. I was stupid, and immature! I lost my sister and my whole family and I can't lose you, too' Post-Mockingjay how Katniss & Peeta pick up the pieces and start over.
1. Chapter 1

_She feels lost in her own life,_

_tredding water just to keep from slipping under. _

_And she wonders if shes where she's s'posed to be. _

_Tired of trying to do it right. _

_Her dreams are just too far away to see, _

_how steps shes making, _

_might be taking her to who she'll be._

_Superchic(k) - Suddenly_

* * *

He comes by every night. He doesn't knock, just stops by my house and stands there for a minute or two, like he's considering what he should do. But he always leaves before I get up enough courage to go to him. But let's face it, that's not going to happen.

I feel like I died with Prim, and the rest of me is just floating along, carried only by the wind. She was the only one I truly loved, and she's dead. And if I let Peeta in, I might lose him, too.

He only comes over for breakfast with Greasy Sae, and he tries to talk to me, but I've been really good at shutting people out lately. It's never anything personal, just the natural, "Hey, good morning." nothing physical, and I miss his arms. The nightmares have only gotten worse. And when I wake up screaming, the only thing I find is Buttercup's eyes boring a hole into me.

We are all hurting, though. I swear I hear everyone once and while Peeta scream in anger, all the way across the yard.

Haymitch, is still a drunk as a skunk. But he's still watching out for us.

I haven't even conspired going into the woods. I usually just sit by the fire, wrapping myself in blankets, searching for some kind of comfort, a break from reality. I just don't know how to get there.

Greasy Sae's constantly telling me to talk to Peeta. But I just don't know how. I need him so much, but I don't know how to remotely even speak to him. What if he has a flashback, and tries to kill me?

I just want to go away, disappear. Have the freedom of a mockingjay and fly away.

But until then, I'm here. Sitting by the fireplace, wondering if I should even try to live anymore. But when I get those thoughts, I pull out his pearl; I always have it in my pocket. Remembering that one reassuring word. "Always" he said that to me when I twisted my ankle, and he carried me to bed. The faint scent of cinnamon and dill comes back to my remembrance.

A knock at the door snaps me back to reality.

"It's Sae." right, breakfast. I unwrap myself out of my blankets and meet the cold air. My hand finds the knob and opens the door, snowflakes carried in by the wind.

"Hey, Sae." I say, returning to the couch. Peeta walks in behind Sae, like always.

"morning," he says casually. The tone of his voice is so cold, it sends shivers down my spine.

"Good morning," I say. His eyes meet mine for just a second, then flit away.

Breakfast is spent in silence, Sae giving me glances that I know say, "You're so stubborn, girl."

And I am stubborn, but I just don't know what to do or say. I just want to disappear. I'm so sick of this wretched world. My hand slides in my pocket and rubs the surface of the pearl.

"Always" I tell myself. This keeps me sane, for a while.

I find myself at the fireplace again, staring out the window, at his house. And I stop myself, I get dressed and stomp out the door, I need the woods. Maybe I can cry myself out there.

I stand on the porch for just a moment, somehow hoping I can send a thought to Peeta. That I'm sorry we lost our families, I'm sorry we're broken and unfixable. I'm more sorry that we can't even look at each other.

I start facing the cruel wind and find myself at the fence. The gap I always go through is still there. The fences isn't on, but it reminds me of the past. I shut my thoughts out and trek onto the path I always took, familiar only to my feet. Maybe Gale knew this way, but it doesn't matter anymore. Gale's gone, too.

I don't go very deep into the woods. And I can't bring myself to kill anymore. Even it is an animal. I just sit by a trunk of tree, wondering if it's okay to go on. I mean really go on, live, somehow. Or if it's selfish. But my head starts to hurt and I head back home. Home. That's an irrelevant name for it. My home is burnt to the ground. Along with the old Katniss.

I force myself to a halt, when I see the note taped to the door that reads,

"Hope you're okay.

-Peeta"

It's his handwriting. He's still trying to protect me. I stuff the note into my pocket and catch myself staring at his house, wondering, more like hoping, he'll come break me out of this shell I've become. Because there's no one else that can. The only strength I mustered up to go to the woods for the first time since the Quell and the rebellion, came from the pearl he gave me. It gave me some ounce of hope, that maybe we're not all doomed. I'm just to much of a coward to admit it.

But I feel like I'm still in the arena. Fighting the demons that attack me. And I can't do it without him. I can't sleep, I haven't for days. So, I force myself to write it down, maybe put it on his door. But I'm terrible with words, so I just write what I know he'll understand.

"I'm not.

-Katniss"

I wait until it's late and I know he'll be either asleep or painting. I stick it between the door and the doorframe. His lights are still on, casting shadows on the wooden planks on the porch. I stop myself from knocking. I just stand there, hoping he'll just burst through the door and take me in his arms. But, I stop those childish thoughts and start walking away. But my ears pick up the loudest crash. I stop and walk back up the steps, ever so slowly placing my hand on the door knob. It creaks when I open it, and the room is empty. I close the door and years of hunting have taught me to step quietly wherever I go. I pick up the note that dropped when I opened the door and put it on his kitchen table. He'll find it.

I don't investigate the crash, if it's Peeta's doing, he can fight the demons just like I've been. I don't think it would be good for him to see me if he's having a flashback. So I walk back to my house, turning around right before I reach the stairs, whispering to myself, "Always"

Tomorrow's a new day. And I'll face the nightmares on my own, just like he is.

* * *

**A/N: Yayy! I really like how this is going! I hope to see some reviews! I would love to hear your thoughts and ideas! Thank you! :D Love you all! Also, I encourage you to listen to the songs I put on each chapter. It will help you understand each chapter better, since each song I choose, will go along with the chapter. It will help you understand the emotions in that chapter. Thank you! 3**

**-Joy **


	2. Chapter 2

**I AM NOT SUZANNE COLLINS, NOR DO I CLAIM TO OWN THE HUNGER GAMES SERIES. NO COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT INTENDED. **

* * *

_She never slows down_

_She doesn't know why but she knows that_

_When she's all alone it feels like its all coming down_

_She won't turn around_

_The shadows grow long and she fears_

_If she cries that first tear, the tears will not stop raining down_

_Superchic(k) - Stand In The Rain_

* * *

I clutch his pearl when the pain hits me. All the pain from the past, my father being killed in those wretched mines, Prim being turned into a torch, the mutt taking the death bite and pulling Finnick out of this world, Rue's head on my lap as I sung to her as she died with a spear in her stomach. It hits me square in the chest, out of nowhere and I sink to the floor, wracking sobs shake my body. I've seen too much death. I remember in the tunnel when Peeta told me he was tired. It was so much more then physically tired, because I'm experiencing the same thing. It's tired, emotionally. Tired of seeing people die, tired of being alone, tired of facing the demons that haunt our sleep, tired of re-living the past, tired of feeling dead.

I'm just so tired. I am exhausted of this pain that life brings. There's only one way out of this battle, and I'm going to take it. I make my way down the stairs, opening the kitchen drawer, sinking to the floor, with a knife clutched in my hand. As I run the blade over my skin, watching the blood run down my wrists, maybe this will stop the pain, somehow.

I watch as my tears meet the blood on my wrists. But I can't take it; the blood. So I put the knife down and fall asleep on the kitchen floor. There will be scars, but it's not like I'm scar free.

I'm woken by a knock at the door.

"Go away," I croak. My eyes find the dried blood on the floor and on my wrists. But I don't try to conceal it. I'm too tired to get off the floor. I'll just die here.

"Katniss, it's Pe-" he opens the door and his eyes find my small body slumped on the floor. I probably look like the definition of death.

"Katniss!" he shrieks, and runs to my side, picking me up in his arms, for the first time in months, I'm in his arms again.

I'm so desperately afraid and so alone and he has to know that.

"Peeta, please, stay with me. I'm sorry, but please." his arms slide out from under my frame and he lies me on the couch. His blue eyes look into mine, and I know he can see right through me.

"Katniss, why did you do this?" he picks up my wrists in his hand.

"I thought it would make the pain go away," I say. His eyes are full of concern, and he runs to the kitchen and grabs cloths to clean my wrists.

"Katniss, harming yourself doesn't make the pain go away. Only time does." he's so full of knowledge, and he looks so emerged in cleaning my wrists, his soft touch as he handles me like I'll break.

"I didn't know what else to do, I couldn't take it anymore." I say, silent tears running down my cheeks. "I missed you, so much." that's the only thing I can muster up before the sobs start. He cradles me in his arms, and I lay my head on his chest, hearing his heartbeat, once again. His steady, healthy heartbeat, for the first time, physically. The last time I heard his heart beat was in a nightmare, one of the worst ones I ever had. The sound of his heartbeat, comforting, but it turned into a mutt, screaming my name.

"I know, but none of us are okay. I'm here, but don't hurt yourself like that anymore, okay?" he says as his voice vibrates through my bones, and I nod against his chest.

"I'm sorry," I repeat as I cry myself out and he doesn't seem to mind as I soak his shirt.

"It's not your fault, we're gonna be okay, I promise." he says, his face resting in my hair as his hands slide up my back.

"I missed you, so, so much." I feel his lips twitch up against my cheek.

"What did you miss about me?" he's not playing, and I'm sure he doesn't remember. And I want to cry again because the Capitol made him forget almost everything about what we used to be, if we were anything.

"Your smile, your words, your breath against my skin, your arms around me, how your hair falls in your eyes, how you're so full of concern, and how you love me." I wrap my arms tighter around him, afraid he'll disappear, never to return.

He simply kisses the top of my head, and goes to the kitchen to clean my blood off the floor.

_"You could live a thousand lifetimes and not deserve him."_ Haymitch rings in my memory as I watch Peeta on his knees ridding the floor of my suicide attempt.

He stays here the whole day, keeping a watch on me. We don't talk much, he just keeps reminding me not to do that anymore. And I feel more like a fool.

The sky turns orange, the sun setting and I run my fingers over his, knowing that he'll leave soon.

He starts to shuffle and rise to his feet, but I stop him, "Peeta, don't go. Please. Stay." I plead. His face puts on a mask of confusion.

"Katniss, I'm just down the street. Come over if you need me, I don't want to hurt you if I have a flashback. I'll come by tomorrow."

I know he cares, but I just got him back, I don't want to lose him again.

"Please, just stay until I fall asleep, please."

And he stays, I crawl in the bed, finding my pearl, where I left it, concealing it from him. Clutching it as I fall asleep, staring at the shadow the moon cast of his silhouette, sitting across the room. Followed by a dreamless sleep.

* * *

**A/N: Don't forget to review! I love my reviewers and I want to hear your ideas! It only takes a moment to review! **

**Okay, to clarify why I wrote the cutting. I know suicidal thoughts flood a person when they're in pain. I know, because I've had suicidal thoughts before, I've never broke down and cut myself, but I felt like Katniss when through so much, and I wanted Peeta to see how grief stricken she was. So, if you've been a victim of suicidal thoughts or suicidal attempts, you're never, ever alone. **

**Review my little ones. Reviews make me update faster and feel loved! **

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**-Joy **


	3. Chapter 3

**I AM NOT SUZANNE COLLINS NOR DO I CLAIM TO BE. NO COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT.**

* * *

_How long will this take?_

_How much can I go through?_

_My heart, my soul aches_

_I don't know what to do_

_I bend, but don't break_

_Somehow I'll get through_

_'Cause I have you_

_And if I had to crawl_

_Well, you'd crawl too_

_I stumble and I fall_

_Carry me through_

_The wonder of it all is you_

_See me through_

_Superchic(k) - Crawl _

* * *

He left before I woke up, leaving me a note on my night stand.

"_I couldn't wake you. I know how precious a good night's sleep is. Please, come get me if you're upset._

_-Peeta_"

It's past noon, I know. I haven't had that much of a good night's sleep in God know's when.

I catch myself staring at the empty chair that sits by the window, the sunlight casting its shadow on the floor. Sunlight dancing off the planks of wood. The cold, empty chair that held Peeta through the night, and the pain hits me again, knowing that Peeta is still so distance from me.

I force myself out of bed, walking to the dresser, catching sight of an unidentifiable, frail girl, with the same, cold grey eyes. Brushing out my dark hair, which has fallen just past my shoulders now - it's still short in different places - and I leave it out of my usual braid, because it won't braid correctly.

I pull a dark shirt over my head, and dark paints - what I usually where to hunt - and gather my bearings and shut the door tightly behind myself. I catch sight of Peeta pruning the primroses he planted in memory of Prim.

"Peeta, it's the dead of winter. Those flowers are going to wither, anyway." He stiffened at the sound of my voice, apparently he didn't hear the door shut. Probably deep in thought, I catch myself doing that, too.

"I know, I'm just trying to keep them alive." he says, rising to his feet. "Did you sleep well?" he asks, brushing his hands free of dirt.

Yeah, because you were there. I want to say, but I simply reply, "Yes, thank you for staying."

He nods, and stuffs his hands in his pockets.

"I was going to go hunting, you wanna come?"

He seems confused, but then he chuckles and replies, "Sure, why not?"

We make it to the fence and I show him how to slide through. And I decide to show him the lake, because Peeta's all I have left, and I want to show him the place that's sacred to me.

He's too loud to hunt, so I reach out for his hand, and he slides his hand into mine.

"I want to show you my favorite place." I smile, and grip his hand harder, pulling him along like a small child.

It takes a long trek to get there, so I try to stir up a conversation.

"We're you able to get help with the hijacking?" I ask. He flinched a bit and bite his lip.

"Sorta. I learned to control them. A lot is still fuzzy though." he says, breaking a stick with his foot. Still as loud as ever.

"Well, I'm here, you can ask me anything." I say. He nods and continues to grip my hand as we walk down the slope of the woods.

Moments of silence pass, until Peeta breaks the silence.

"Why are you doing this? I tried to kill you..." he pauses, and sits down on the forest floor, his back resting against a tree trunk. I slide down beside him.

"Because you make me feel okay, safe." he smiles, and makes circle motions on the back of my hand.

"Come on, we're almost there," I say, pulling him to his feet.

It's still as beautiful as ever. And I wish it was warm so I could go swimming.

"My father loved this place. He took me here a lot." I say. Peeta just takes my hand, and I lead him to the bank of the lake, and enjoy the peaceful sound of running water and birds singing.

"You know, I really did miss you when I was in the Capitol with, Doctor Aurelius." Peeta says. And him saying this only confuses me. Do I love him? Do I want to be with him? He did save my life, on multiple occasions. But the problem is, my life is such a mess and there's so many paths I could take but, I'm just confused. So, I let my emotions take over and kiss him right on the mouth. I'm tired of thinking, just doing will be fine.

He freezes and then returns this kiss. For the first time in months, his lips are on mine again, and the way warmth radiates throughout my entire being, I know I've been stupid for pushing him away this long.

I drop my head on his shoulder, and whisper, "I love you." Meaning every word.

"I love you, but you don't love me, Katniss." There isn't self-pity in his voice. He says it in a matter-of-factly way.

I know he thinks I don't love him, they brainwashed him in the Capitol and he's just as confused as I am.

"I've loved you for a long time, Peeta! I'm sorry it took me so long to realize it. I was stupid, and immature! I lost my sister and my whole family and I can't lose you, too!" I gather his hands in my own. "When you were captured by the Capitol, I thought i was never going to get you back. I was a wreck. Ask Haymitch." I wrap my arms around him. "Please, I love you. Don't say I don't, because I do."

I feel, better. I feel calm just sitting here listening to Peeta's rise and fall of his chest.

"I love you, too." Peeta says after a few seconds.

I smile. Maybe we can start over now, somehow. Pick up the broken pieces that have become our life.

I feel connected to my father, somehow. I guess because I'm at his favorite place. I feel like he's smiling down at me. Approving, maybe.

"What are you thinking?" Peeta asks. Slightly smiling.

"My dad. I just miss him." I say, laying my head under the crook of his neck. He kisses the top of my forehead and sighs.

"I know, I wish both of our dads were here." he says, rubbing my arm.

And I feel like an idiot, because Peeta is hurting as much as I am. He lost his parents, too. We both only have each other to cling on in the lonely, sad world.

"They weren't even properly buried." I say. There was nothing to bury of my father and Mr. Mellark's bones were just thrown in a hole.

Peeta sighs and we lean back on the grass, still holding each other. Comforting each other, like we used too. I remember that night he carried me to bed, because I twisted my ankle. That one word that'll always be etched in my heart. That one word I will never forget. One word that only came back to me after I lost him. A word my heart never forgot.

_"Stay with me."_

_"Always." _

I'm tempted to ask him if he remembers, so I give in. "Remember that night, I twisted my ankle and you carried me to bed. And I asked you to stay, and you said, always?"

His features narrow in concentration.

"Yeah. I remember that." he smiles, kissing my nose.

"Repeating 'always' to myself, remembering that night, kept me sane." I say. He let's the corners of his mouth twitch up in a smile and I don't hesitate to return one myself.

We emerge from the woods after hours of talking things out. Explaining things the other didn't understand or know. Giving comforting gestures when needed. It felt like old times. The times on the Victory Tour, fighting the demons together. Somehow putting bandages on the scars that the past left on us. Talking about our nightmares, what happened in The Capitol. Why we choose to do certain things. I feel renewed, like Peeta has somehow broken something inside of me. Finally broke the walls I put up for so long. And it feels better with them down.

But he's still broken. Even if I am feeling somewhat better, I mean I'll never return to my old self. But, I feel different, and I like that. But, Peeta's hurt. Peeta feels alone, and I know it. He's lost his home, his family, and I'm all he has left, and I can't push him away anymore. It's time to put him first and repay him for comforting me all this time. He's just confused, and I can help him, and I don't understand why I didn't notice that before.

He pauses at the meadow, which has become just turned up soil. Where his family is buried. Where Madge is. This is a graveyard now.

"It's okay to cry, you know." I put my arms around his torso, and his arms find my waist. "It's just sad, that they're not here. I just miss them." I lift up my head to meet his gaze, but his gaze is on the ground, where his silent tears meet the black earth.

I kiss his cheek, tasting saltwater on my lips. "I know, Peeta. Do you want me to go?" I ask him, maybe to let him grieve them. "No, stay here, please." he says, and I stay.

After a while the tears stop -on both sides- and we make our way through the fence and walk to Victor's Village. Getting glances from people who are probably surprised we're even outside. We are mentally disoriented victors.

He stops when we reach my steps. "Katniss, I should head back." I wrap my arms around his neck. "Stay?" I ask, he smiles and follows closely behind me, making our way into the living room. He poaches the fire, putting new wood in and lighting a match.

I've learned something about Peeta; He's a gentleman, and he only does something if he's asked too. Or giving permission to do. And that's why I love him. We need each other. And I hope he understands that I do love him. I'm just healing. Because we're both broken.

He spends the night again. We fall asleep in each other's warmth, heat radiating from the fire. His hair tickling my skin. And if I know anything, it's that Peeta is the only person in the world that can make me feel whole again. He's what I need to survive. I don't need destruction, I need rebirth. And together, we can stitch up each other's scars.

* * *

**A/N: I've been wanting to write longer chapters, so I fulfilled this. Hopefully chapters will be longer. I don't know when the next chapter will be up, with school and all that. But, reviews are EXTREMELY appreciated! I really want your opinion and comments. If you ask a question, I will most definitely get back to you! I really, really enjoy follows and reviews. It's not fun writing a story and getting no feedback.  
**

**And I hope that Katniss is not totally different, but let's face it, she changed a lot after Mockingjay. And I hope I'm not moving too fast, in anyway. OH! And don't forget to follow me on tumblr! If I come up with fan fic ideas I post them there. my url is: obsessedtribute98**

**I bid you a fond farewell!**

**-Joy**


	4. Chapter 4

**I AM NOT SUZANNE COLLINS. NO COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT INTENDED. **

* * *

_Circle me and the needle moves gracefully back and forth_

_If my heart was a compass, you'd be North_

_Risk it all 'cause I'll catch you if you fall_

_Wherever you go, if my heart was a house, you'd be home_

_If my heart was a house, you'd be home_

_Owl City - If My Heart Was A House _

* * *

Instead of waking up to an empty room, with an empty chair. There's warmth by my side, when the sun shines through the windows. I don't disturb him, because he looks so peaceful. Focusing on his hair. Blonde waves, that are messy after a nights sleep. The way I like it. His eyelashes, long and blonde like his hair. And for a moment I'm transported back in time. The day when we ate cheese buns and he drew plants in my family's plant books. I spent too much time focusing on his eyelashes that day. The way he brought a page to life with a few certain strokes. I leave that memory and return back to reality, the rise and fall of Peeta's chest. His arms wrapped around my frame, my head resting on his arm. We slept like this in the cave of our first Games. Who would have thought, after nearly 3 years afterwards, we would be in the same comforting position again, none the less, alive. Life's been odd to us.

Cold, I snuggle closer to his body. His arm tightens around my frame and his jaw clenches. His face puts on the expression of pain, and I know he's having a nightmare. Of course, his haven't gone away either.

I lightly place my hand on his chest.

"Peeta," I whisper, I don't know if it helps waking someone up when their having a nightmare or not. Well, in Peeta's case. Since he's hi-jacked, him seeing me, might set off a flashblack. Or worse.

"Peeta, wake up." I say softly, bringing my hand to his cheek. His skin soft under my fingers. Stubble on his chin from not shaving. His eyes flutter open and he freezes.

"Hey, it's just me." I say, bringing my hands back to pull up the blanket to my chin.

His lips twitch up in response, and he plants a kiss on my forehead. I close my eyes, enjoying the pleasant, simplicity of this gesture.

"Did you have a nightmare?" I ask, as he lays his head back down. He nods in response, "I didn't hurt you, did I?" always worrying about me.

"No, Peeta." I say, tasting his name as it rolls off my tongue. I curl up back into to his frame. "It's cold. Let me go start the fire back up." he says, sitting up. "No, just stay here for a while longer." I say, lacing our hands back together. He smiles, and lies back down.

"What do you wanna do today?" he asks, his eyebrows raising like a little kid. I smile, "You could teach me how to bake." he chuckles slightly. "That'll be easy." he says playfully.

And after a while, we have to leave the comfort of each other and face the day.

"You really want to learn how to bake?" Peeta asks over breakfast.

"Yes," I answer. And I really do. I just want to spend time with him. Maybe figure out what he likes, what makes Peeta smile. Because he already knows when it comes to me.

"No, Katniss, knead back and forth." he says. I'm covered in flour and I don't know what I'm doing.

"You're like a drill Sargent." I groan and return the chuckle he releases. And smudge flour on his nose. He laughs and his blue eyes grow wide, and for the first time in a long time, he's grinning.

"I'm going to get you for that!" he exclaims, flicking flour on my face.

We both start throwing flour at each other, laughing like children. And I burst out laughing again when I see his hair, a white mess, from the flour and I'm sure I look the same. And finally I realize, that's the first time we laughed together since, I can't remember when.

"Well, I guess we can mark that off the list." I laugh again, running my hand through his messy hair. Flour flying off like snowflakes. We somehow ended up on the floor, laughing way too hard. He laughs and grins again. That sparkle in his eye that pulls me in. And he meets me in the middle, and I taste his lips once again, tasting of flour. And his kisses only continue to make my heart race. Our noses brushing each other's. The faint scent of cinnamon residing on his skin.

"You love me. Real or not real?" he asks, breaking us apart, his hands resting on my forearms.

"Real. So real." I say, pulling his lips back to mine. With only us to interrupt.

We break apart, his forehead on mine.

"I'm sorry that the worst situations brought us together." he says, his eyes searching for mine. Trying to read my thoughts, decipher the code that my emotions have hidden.

"Peeta, but they did happen. And we can't change that. Let's focus on now." I say. Surprised that I even said that. He's the one good with words, not me.

"I know, the problem is, I just can't figure out if this real. Right here, now." he says, rubbing flour off of my nose. "I want it to be real. I want you by my side, but they made me believe so many things, Katniss. It's still so hard to know." he says, and you can see the sadness behind his blue eyes. The way he drops his gaze to the floor.

"This is real. And I do love you." I cup my hand under his chin, forcing him to make eye contact. "We can't forget the people who died. But we can live on. Somehow. But this is definitely real. I'm here, in District 12, in Victor's Village, with you. And I wouldn't want it any other way." Gale resides in my memory for a moment. Strong, independent, Gale Hawthorne. I push him out of my memory, silently releasing him from the cage I kept his memory in. He's moved on, in District 2 and so am I.

"We will be okay." he says, rising to his feet, lending a hand for mine to grab. And I know that he's right.

_We will be okay._

Days like this, help me shed off the pain. Days like this one, help me understand that whatever happened in the past brought me to where I am now. But, it can't mask the pain I still feel for the loss of my father and Prim. It just can't, because nothing ever will. They were apart of me, and I can't shake that. It's impossible. So I'll carry them with me for the rest of my life. But, I won't spend my days in self-pity. I'll make them proud.

But, they are days when I can barely force myself out of bed. Where the only thing that brings life into my bones is Peeta's kind words, and warmth by my side. He practically lives here now. He spends the night, no longer in the cold chair, but with me in my bed. We hold each other, fighting the nightmares that haunt our minds. He keeps silent about a lot of things. He paints them out, and I've only seen one, inspired by a nightmare, and I haven't tried looking again. It was, cold, dark, eerie painting, where I felt pain when I saw it. Knowing that Peeta sees this every night.

On the bad days - which is what Peeta and I call the days when pain seeps back in. He has them too, usually when I find him clutching to the back of a chair like it's a life line - I keep his pearl in my pocket. And it wasn't until I didn't hear him approaching he asked me what I was holding.

"It's the pearl you gave me in the Quell. I keep it when I have the bad days. It helps me hold on to reality, and the fact that you're near." I say, opening my hand for him to see it. "It's what kept me alive in 13, and it keeps me alive now." I say, softly. Clutching it safely back into my fist. And letting in roll into my pocket.

"I remember giving that to you. I wanted you to know I was going to protect you, if it was the last thing I ever did." he says, leaving his painting to sit by me next to the fire. "I still plan on protecting you, anyway possible." he strokes my hair, and I rest my head on his lap. "We protect each other" I whisper, going back into the underground tunnels of the Capitol. Remembering how far we've come from that time. We're free now, no more Games. No more kids dying in the name of entertainment. I cringe at the thought of knowing I used to be a player in that game.

But, there are good days too. Good days outweighing the bad ones, and for that, I'm grateful.

I get the idea from finding my father's plant book.

"Peeta!" I call out, hearing his familiar tread stepping down the hallway. Today is a good day, we're both in a good mood. "What is it, my dear Katniss?" He says, obviously sarcastically. I laugh, he gets a grin out of me. "We could do a book, write down what our memories will forget. Lady licking Prim's face, or the day you threw me the bread. Or my father's favorite color, or the way he sang." He smiles, and kisses my temple. "I call Doc. He'll send us some paper." he says, treading down the hallway.

Today will be a good day. Today, I'll survive. And maybe, the future will be kind.

* * *

**A/N: This is a bit shorter then the last chapter, but I got school in the morning. So, I hope you enjoy this chapter, and reviews are greatly appreciated. I'm so excited with how this is turning out, and I really like playing around with Peeta's character. I'm going to dig in his past some more in later chapters. But, for now I like them just getting to know each other again, kisses here and there, comforting each other, I like that. And I hope you do too! Thanks everyone for the reviews so far, I love knowing you love these chapters! **

**You can follow me on Tumblr for my daily fangirl fanatics: obsessedtribute98**

**I bid you a fond farewell!**

**-Joy**


	5. Chapter 5

_Can you the find time to let your lover hold you_

_He needs somebody to hold to_

_His love is strong and so true_

_Cause I was aiming for you_

_And he's the one that you were born to love_

_Love like this may come once_

_Baby it's fate_

_Like a soulmate he's your penguin_

_Baby it's fate baby it's fate_

_Not luck_

_Penguin - Christina Perri_

* * *

The roaring of fire consuming wood, and Peeta's breathing, feels with air. Both quite comforting. His steady hand draws the out line of my father's features, as I watch a simple oval turn into a carbon copy of what I remembered my father to look like. The memory book is what we call it. My father is the first entry. And it's soothing to sit by Peeta's side as he sketches. The way his eyes narrow in concentration. And I realize, there's so much more to Peeta that I don't know. His past, his parents, his brothers.

"Peeta," he lifts his gaze to mine."was your mother really that abusive to you?" he drops his gaze for a second, I probably shouldn't have asked.

"My mom, didn't want kids, so she took out her anger on me and my brothers. Me being the youngest, I don't think they planned to have me, so that pissed her off more. I got most of the punishment." he picks up his pencil and continues to sketch. Leaving me to decipher what he just said. My father never laid a hand on me in an abusive manner, so I can't possibly know what it feels like to be hated by someone who gave birth to you.

"I'm sorry." is the only words I can find to say.

"It's okay, Katniss." he replies.

"I always liked your dad better. Considering my dad and your dad were sorta friends. And promised to keep Prim fed." I say. He smiles, and returns his gaze to mine.

"My dad was the friendly one. God, I miss him." I wrap my arm around his waist, and curl into his side. Breathing in his familiar scent.

"Let's go to bed, we can finish this tomorrow." I promise. Peeta closes the book and lays it on the table in front of us, and intertwines his fingers into mine, walking up the steps with his heavy tread and my light one. Like oil and water, me and Peeta.

I stop at my dresser, finding my pearl where I keep it. Peeta wrapping his arms around my waist from behind me. I look into the mirror where I find two people trying to find they're way in this world. Two people who, somehow love each other unconditionally. I find his blue eyes in the mirror, and together, we can get through the pain. Together we can live again. I turn around and wrap my arms around his neck, his hands resting on my waist.

"Thank you. Thank you for not leaving me." I whisper into his shoulder. His hair tickling my skin.

"I never intend on leaving you." he says, bringing my lips to his. I smile in between kisses.

The simplicity of laying in his arms is more beautiful than anything you could imagine. Nothing sexual. Just the comfort of another human being ready to face the nightmares with you, is something I find more beautiful every night he lies beside me. The feelings of his hand entwined with mine, sending me off into a pleasant sleep.

_The sun setting, Peeta by my side. _

_He looks older. His hair turning white on the sides. Children laughing in the distance. The meadow green, full of dandelions, and a joyous little girl sitting in Peeta's lap. Grinning as he kisses her on her dark, wavy hair. Her hands full of dandelions. _

_"Here, mama," she says, intwining a dandelion in my hair. _

I wake up with a gasp. Peeta groggily asking what's wrong. I ignore him and swing my feet off the side of the bed. Walking to the bathroom door and closing it behind me, sinking to the cold floor. "She called me mama!" Is the only thought I can form. I never want to bring something so special into this world, so sacred. This world would only taint it. I will never do that to another human being.

Peeta knocks on the door, repeatedly.

"Katniss, what's wrong? Let me in." and his persistence forces me to unlatch the door that separates us.

"Was it that bad?" he asks, taking me in his arms. And I don't know if it was bad. It was a pleasant dream. But the possibility of having children lights a terror inside of me, that I can't tame. A future with Peeta, I would want. I just don't know about the children part.

"No, it wasn't bad," I say, raising my hands to put quotations around "bad".

"What do you mean?" Peeta asks, picking me off the floor. "We were in the meadow. We were much older, and there was a little girl, she called me mama." I drop my head on his shoulder.

"That doesn't sound like a nightmare, it sounds like a good dream to me." Peeta says, placing my frame back on the bed, tucking me under the sheets. Placing a kiss between my eyes.

I sigh. "I know." nothing else is mentioned about the dream. Part of me wants another reason to hope. But the sensible part of me stomps the spark out. Peeta doesn't speak of it either, for which I'm glad. His personality practically screams parent, mine does not. So many things could go wrong. And I don't want to be responsible for another human life. Or scar another human. As my mother scarred us with her depression. Which I guess I can't blame her for, since I was in the same depression a month ago. The thought of my little sister being de - gone, starts to stretch the scar, I thought was healing.

Greasy Sae comes over occasionally, bringing her granddaughter along. Peeta and she have bonded. I hear her giggle from across the room, because Peeta has her on his shoulders.

Would it be so bad, putting the dream to reality? Not now, but later, in a few years. Giving Peeta that joy of holding his own child in his arms?

I put the thought in the back of my mind, where I keep everything I can't trust myself to answer. Prim's death, why she was reaped, why my father was killed, why my mother can barely speak to me, why humanity is so broken. These are the questions I cannot answer. These are the questions I save for the woods. Where I can sort them out and find the answers I seek.

But until then, we spend our days working on the memory book, and we somehow how get Haymitch to help us with including tributes. 23 years of tributes. I can tell it hurts for him to explain how they died, or re-watching their Games. Or even remember their names. Haymitch is such a secretive man, with a past no one could relate too. But I'm thankful for him. He kept me alive, and for that, I'm more than thankful.

"Do you want us to include Maysilee in the book, Haymitch?" he pauses for a moment, sitting across the table from Peeta and I. Bringing the bottle of liquor back up to his lips. His eyes give off the look of pain.

"Sure," he says, emotionless.

So, we do. And it turns out the older man has a heart. On many occasions, I catch him tearing up when he looks over Peeta's shoulder. I guess he really did love her. You can't just watch someone die and not have a black hole where your heart should be. I know I feel that way about Rue. When we included her in the book, I couldn't keep count of the times I broke down. Another life wasted in the name of entertainment. Countless lives wasted in the name of entertainment. Lives I wish could have been saved. It's just so unnecessary, such a waste.

The district is thriving. Houses being built, stores, the Justice Building being rebuilt, the mines being destroyed, leaving fresh ground for vegetables to grow. Children running around, laughing. Peeta's even decided to build a new bakery where his family's once stood. It seems like ages ago when I first came back after my trial. When it's only been about eight months. Four months since Peeta found me that morning on the floor. But, I'm glad that people are coming back.

While Peeta works with some of the men in town, making plans for the construction of the bakery, I stroll around town. Stopping by the building where all the mail is sorted. Grabbing the mail addressed to Victor's Village. When I realize Annie has sent us a letter. I tear the seal and find a picture of her new-born baby. Even at such a young age, the copy of Finnick. The same sea green eyes that stole the hearts of a country.

The same green eyes that helped me realize that I did love Peeta.

The same eyes, that I will never stop wanting to owe.

I smile, and slide the picture back in the envelope, and read the letter.

_"Dear Katniss and Peeta,_

_I hope this gets to you, and I hope that I'm addressing this right, that you and Peeta are in the same District._

_He's named after his father. I thought that was best. It gives me something to hold on to since he's not here to help me raise our son. _

_I'm fine, the baby has given me much to do, and I'm not so lonely anymore. District 4 is coming back to life, and I'm glad that we can start over, without the Games. _

_I hope you are all doing well. Give everyone my best. _

_Love,_

_Annie Odair"_

I fold the letter back into the envelope, and ponder on her words in my mind. It seems like everyone is starting fresh. Wiping the slate clean, and starting over. It's something I've wanted to do for eight months. I don't even know if I have. Or we have.

I see Peeta from a distance talking to Thom, in front of where the ashes of his family's bakery lay. His hands making gestures towards blueprints. His blonde hair wet from perspiration - It's early spring now, and it's already getting warm - glistening in the sunlight. His hair being one of my favorite features that resides on his body. I stop myself from thinking too hard about him, and push myself into a walking pace into Victor's Village. He'll be home soon.

I attempt at cooking, which fails horribly. Instead I cook what recent game I've shot. At least I know how to cook a squirrel.

"Hey," I hear from the doorway. Peeta's heavy tread entering the kitchen. "you made dinner?" he asks, walking towards me.

"No, no, no. Shower first, then you're allowed to kiss me, and eat." I say, jokingly. He grins and laughs. "Yes ma'am!" he says, and before I know it, he's already stole a kiss and darted up the stairs.

I chuckle, and return to my cooking.

"You know, you're birthday's coming up?" Peeta says, over dinner. "Peeta Mellark, how did you know that?" I laugh, and put down my fork. He grins and says, "Well, I have had a crush on you since I was five. And been in two Hunger Games and a rebellion with you, and we've been living together for four months. I think I know you're birthday by now."

I think Peeta Mellark knows me better than I know myself.

"We don't have to do anything. I'm just turning eighteen. Not a reason to celebrate." I say, bringing my fork back to my mouth.

"You're the dang Mockingjay. Gotta do something." he says. Ugh. The whole mockingjay thing, I wish it would go away. I don't want that title anymore.

Peeta rises to his feet and starts to wash the dishes. I quickly follow. Hip to hip, shoulder to shoulder. He washes, I dry.

"How's the construction for that bakery going?" I ask him, as he hands me a plate. The clunk of dishes hitting each other under the water.

"Pretty good. We start tomorrow." he says, wiping his hands on rag. "I'll be gone most of the day, though." he says. "Peeta, I can survive eight hours without you." he laughs. "I know you can." he says.

We retire to the couch and the only thing on the tv is usually Capitol news.

"We would also like to say Happy Birthday to the Mockingjay, Katniss Everdeen, whose birthday is coming up in a few weeks." the odd-looking reporter states. I roll my eyes. "Ugh, I can't be left alone. I just want to forget about them." I say, slamming the power button on the remote. Peeta wraps his arm around my shoulder.

"It's okay, but you have to remember, you were they're hero." he says, kissing my temple. "I assassinated they're new President." I say. Peeta chuckles under his breath. "True, but they look up to you." he says.

"Oh! I forgot!" I shriek, jumping from the couch to find Annie's letter. "Forgot what?" Peeta asks. "Annie sent us a letter" I reply. I hand him the letter and picture. "he looks just like Finnick." he says. I know he misses him too. "I know. Annie named him Finnick Jr." I say, sliding the picture back into the envelope.

"We should put that picture in the memory book." Peeta says, yawning. I nod.

We didn't even make it to bed that night. Just fell asleep in each other's arms. Lulled to sleep by Peeta's heart beat, that proved he was here, holding me.

* * *

**A/N: Whew! Longest chapter yet! They are some time jumps, just to clarify. I'm sorta thinking of what to do next. Hmm. I'm trying to make Katniss as canon as possible. So, making her pretty stubborn is easy, haha. I'm so thankful for all the feedback I've received so far, reviews keep me writing. So, they're greatly appreciated. But, thank you to all who have reviewed, followed, and favorited so far. Love you all! **

**I'm currently considering if I should do a chapter in Peeta's POV. Thoughts? It's hard writing in his point of view, because I'm so used to reading and writing in Katniss' POV. But, I feel like I can relate to Peeta, personality wise. So it might not be that hard. **

**Also, if you haven't read my other story, "Loved and Cherished" this was supposed to be a prequel to that, but I'm considering just to continue with this story, marriage, pregnancies, kids and all that good jazz. Thoughts? Or should I just end it and then let it continue with "Loved and Cherished"? I feel like my writing has gotten so much better since then, so idk! You guys make that decision, you are my readers. **

**Join me on tumblr: obsessedtribute98**

**-Joy**


	6. Chapter 6

**I am not Suzanne Collins, nor do I claim to be or own The Hunger Games series. All characters belong to Suzanne Collins. No copyright infringement intended. **

* * *

_The stars lean down to kiss you_  
_And I lie awake and miss you_  
_Pour me a heavy dose of atmosphere_  
_Cause I'll doze off safe and soundly_  
_But I'll miss your arms around me_  
_I'd send a postcard to you, dear_  
_Cause I wish you were here_

_I'll watch the night turn light blue_  
_But it's not the same without you_  
_Because it takes two to whisper quietly_  
_The silence isn't so bad_  
_'Til I look at my hands and feel sad_  
_Cause the spaces between my fingers_  
_Are right where yours fit perfectly_

_Vanilla Twilight - Owl City_

* * *

Today was going to be a bad day. The moment I woke up to an empty bed, I knew today was going to be a bad day. An ache in my chest was evidence something was wrong. Peeta hadn't had a terrible flashback, as in trying to kill me, since he came back from the Capitol to 12. He usually had minors ones he could control. Ones that only lasted for a moment as he gripped the back of a chair.

The side of the bed is cold without his warmth, proving he's been gone for a while. I untangle my body from the sheets and my feet hit the ground waking toward the dresser with the tall mirror, that shows a girl who has picked herself out of the shadows, and learned to breathe again. But all those attempts at living may crumble today. Something just doesn't sit right in my mind. I stop my thoughts for a second and walk towards the bathroom door. My eyes finding Peeta's frame huddled on the floor. His back to the wall and his head in his hands. Trying his best to curl into a ball and disappear, much like I used too.

"Today's going to be a bad day, Katniss." Peeta says, avoiding my face. "Peeta, what happened?" I ask, dropping to his side, rubbing my hand over his arm in a comforting way. "I had a nightmare. I c- I can just feel the flashbacks coming." he says, stuttering at parts. His eyes searching the wall ahead. Still avoiding my line of vision.

"It might be best if you go hunting today, I don't want to hurt you, Ka- Katniss." it pains me to know he's suffering so much inside. I know he's having a war inside of his being. Good versus evil. He's trying so hard to control his fears.

"Okay, I'll go." I say, kissing his cheek. He freezes, then relaxes.

"I love you." I say, walking out of the door. He mutters something in response, I don't bother to ask what.

I leave him where I found him, and lace my hunting boots and find my father's hunting jacket. And make my way out of the door. The scent of spring reaching my senses. This was the old Katniss' favorite season. I still like it, though. I don't go directly to the woods, I decide to stay at the meadow for a moment. It's green again. Dandelions popping up in certain areas.

Dandelions.

I pluck one from the ground and roll it in between my fingers.

"Hope" I think. "Hope for tomorrow."

I reach in my pocket to lay the dandelion in the safety of my jacket. My hand finding a small round object.

The pearl.

I can only imagine what he's facing now. The constant battle within his mind. I can't relate to him in any way, and there's nothing I can do to help him. The mutated version of me is who he's trying to rid his mind of. How can I possibly help him with that?

I push myself to the woods, and manage to kill a few squirrels. And kill a few hours. Peeta constant in my mind. I left him to fend on his own. Who does that? I shouldn't have left. I should have stayed. I give up on hunting and turn on my heel and walk back home. Walking past the meadow once again. Pausing to take in the beauty of the sunset.

"Orange, like the sunset." I remember Peeta saying that to me on the victory tour. We basically sacrificed our lives for each other's and we didn't even know each other's favorite colors.

I stay outside of the house, skinning the squirrels. Making a mess, I eventually have to go in to change. I hear the faint sound of brushes rattling, and that lets me know Peeta's in the study, painting his fears. I quietly try to pass the room, me being partly covered in blood, probably isn't a great sight for someone who has been hi-jacked. Even if it's only from squirrels. I rid myself of the gore, and knock on the study door, quietly opening the room that I rarely enter, since this is the room Snow visited me in before the Victory Tour.

"You doing okay?" I ask, placing my hand on his shoulder. He's painted, what I think looks like me. It must be what I look like when I sleep, because I look peaceful.

"Hey," he smiles, good-naturally. "I don't know, it helps to paint happy things." he says, picking his paint brush back up. "I'm far from something happy to paint, Peeta." I laugh, and glance over at the paintings that lay on the floor. Disoriented memories of, what looks like Johanna, bald, and full of scars. A painting of Snow, laying dead the morning I killed Coin. I quickly turn my glance away from the one of a little girl with braids, surrounded by flames.

"You look pleasant when you sleep. Not chewing everyone's head off." he laughs, and I return one. "Ugh, I hate you." it was nothing more than a joke. Something he would have laughed off if he wasn't having a bad day. Instead his fist tightened around his brush and he held back a growl from the back of his throat. "You're a mutt!" Peeta screams, backing me up to the wall. He's twice the size of me, and I know he could hurt me - or kill me - if his body willed.

"Peeta, no. I'm not. I'm Katniss. I love you. Please, come back." I plead, as tears choke me between words. He has me pinned against the wall. His attacks have never been this bad since he came to 13 and choked me. And I start to wonder if he'll kill me. He's raging with anger, and certainly no one would get here in time to knock him out.

"Peeta, s-stop. Pl-please, come back." tears mark streaks down my face. We were doing so well. I thought the pain was over. I search his eyes for my Peeta. The one who cares and loves. And I only know one way to find him.

I crash my lips onto his and only hope my Peeta will return. He freezes, and fidgets for a moment, and then relaxes, and I know it's over. My lips leave his and I search his eyes. Finding my Peeta. Not the Capitol made mutt.

"I hate this so much," Peeta collapses on me, and sobs violently. A grown man, crying. I ease both of us to a sitting position on the floor and comfort him.

"I'm not hurt. I know you hate it. I know." I repeat, running my hand through his blonde waves. His body shaking in my arms. He's held this in for who knows how long. And we don't stop each other from crying. We both end up comforting each other. Because sometimes, crying is the only thing that let's go of the pain.

I start to hum a mountain air song my father taught me. Rubbing Peeta's arm in a comforting way. Mumbling words of comfort like a mother would do to a small child. Because he's more broken than I thought he was. I thought I was the one emotionally scarred for a lifetime. Turns out Peeta is too. And I hate myself for not noticing that before. He's been to hell and back. And he carries everything he's saw in his past on his shoulders.

I do something I haven't done in quite a while.

"Deep in the meadow," I sing. My voice hoarse from disuse. "Under the willow, a bed of grass, a soft green pillow" silent tears run down my face remembering the people I used to sing that song too. Prim, when she would wake up from a nightmare. And Rue, as she died.

I screw my eyes shut and force myself to continue.

"lay down your head, and close your sleepy eyes, and when again they open, the sun will rise." Peeta straightens and takes me in his arms. And I continue to sing until I feel the need not to anymore.

x~~~~x

He kept his distance. The jokes, the unexpected hugs and kisses, his constant smile, ceased. Even when I would reach out myself, he would reject my affection. My birthday passed without notice. All he ever did was paint. He locked himself in the study and wouldn't come out for hours. At first he wouldn't even hold my hand when we slept. Now we don't even sleep in the same room. He paints, bakes occasionally, paints more and goes to sleep on the couch. And I've tried to break the shell he's crawled into, without success.

"Peeta, please." I would ask every night. He would shake his head, and turn away.

I didn't sleep. I couldn't will myself to sleep. I would stay awake for hours trying to decipher his motives.

My Peeta started disappearing after the episode in the study, when he had a flashback. I thought he was going to be okay. But I was wrong, oh so wrong. My hand glides over to the cold side of the bed, where his warmth usually lies. But it's absent. And it has been for weeks. Everyday I force myself out of bed. I finally found a chain for the pearl, and I keep it safely around my neck. Dropping it under my shirt, hiding it from view.

I've hunted more than ever. There's nothing else to do. I avoid Peeta, grab my bow and meet the summer breeze. So tired of being forced to feel pity for myself and him. Maybe I'll go to the woods. Run away like Gale wanted too. And I remember how long ago that was. Nearly three years since we met at our favorite place the morning of the reaping. And I remember that this will be our first summer without the Games. I don't see why it matters, though. The Games have already taken our lives away. Scarred people in every way possible. Left fatherless, motherless, and sisterless. I haven't even attempted to call my mother. I haven't talked to her since I broke down and called her as we exchanged tears over the death of Prim. Buttercup doesn't come around much anymore. Rarely. Last time I saw him was four weeks ago, I think. He had grown to like Peeta and when Peeta put on this mask, he left. And I wish I could too.

I don't attempt to hunt. I make the long trek to the lake. Lay in the sun, watching the mockingjays and squirrels dance in the trees. The breath of summer rattling through the green leaves. I eventually decide to stay at the lake for the night. Make camp in the concrete cabin. Watching the sky turn sunset orange. No, I refuse to lie here and focus on him. If he wants me to leave, then I'll leave. I'm more than capable of living out here on my own.

* * *

**A/N: Hey everyone! I have to say, I was a little disappointed at the lack of reviews when I updated chapter 5. I'm hoping that will change. :) **

**So, here's chapter 6! I know, it's a little sad. But, I wanted to add some depth to their relationship. Next chapter will be in Peeta's POV. And I've decided to go ahead and continue this story through out the epilogue. So, you can stick with this story for marriage, kids and all that. 3 **

**Follow me on tumblr if you wanna: obsessedtribute98**

**-Joy**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: I want to clarify something before I start this chapter. I got a guest review about keeping this story the way it is, and not writing marriage, kids, etc. Okay, I'm a sucker for kids. I'm too maternal for my own good. I can't possibly leave this story without writing their kids in. No, I won't be writing that anytime soon, because I don't want to rush things. But it is in the future of this story. So, bear with me. Thank you my dear! ;)**

**-Joy **

* * *

_When I look into your eyes_

_It's like watching the night sky_

_Or a beautiful sunrise_

_There's so much they hold_

_And just like them old stars_

_I see that you've come so far_

_To be right where you are_

_How old is your soul?_

_I won't give up on us_

_Even if the skies get rough_

_I'm giving you all my love_

_I'm still looking up_

_I Won't Give Up - Jason Mraz _

* * *

Peeta Mellark's POV.

* * *

_She's fine. _

_She's fine. _

This is the only thing I can tell myself to not go completely insane. She never came home last night. I turned my back on her. I was just trying to protect her. I didn't want to hurt her anymore. I was disgusted with myself and sick of hurting other people.

_"Stupid! You were stupid!"_ I scream at myself. Slamming my fists on the counter top. I shouldn't have pushed her away like that. For weeks I didn't even breathe a word to her. And I regret it more than anything. The night after my attack, I couldn't live with myself. So many different scenarios ran circles in my mind. Constantly on replay. I could have hurt her. Or worse, killed her. The thought of hurting her in any way, made me shudder. So, I pushed her away. A little more each day, until we were as distance as the Earth is to Pluto. I shut her out, and built up a wall to protect her. For her own good.

She has to be okay. She has to be. I can't lose her. Not again. Not this way. I won't.

I meet the summer air and find my feet at Haymitch's stairs. I don't bother to knock.

"Haymitch!" I shout across the house, looking for the older man. I find him surrounded by liquor bottles, a knife wedged between his fingers. I shake his figure.

"What the-" he sits up abruptly and shouts a string of profanities.

"Haymitch, I did something idiotic. Katniss didn't come home yesterday. I don't know where she is." I say, falling into a nearby chair. His eyes flash to mine. Bloodshot eyes full of pain.

"What did you do, boy?" he asks, setting down his bottle on the wooden table.

Stupid. Is the only word I can describe my motives.

"I, uh, I had a flashback. I shut her out. I was stupid, Haymitch." I say, helplessly. He looks at the floor, back up to me. Straightens his back, and speaks.

"You know, I thought you would have gotten this by now, but I guess not. She needs you about as much as a bird needs to sing. And that applies to you too, boy. Now, go find her. And leave me be. I'm not a relationship expert." he says, picking up the bottle again, grunting as the liquid runs down his throat.

He truly cares. Somewhere deep down in that torn soul, he cares.

I rise to my feet and run my hands over my face. I'll go. I'll find her, apologize, somehow.

"Where do you think she is?" I ask him. He looks up and gives me a look of, "seriously?" I know the answer. Her favorite place, the woods. And I have a strong feeling she's at the lake.

"Thanks, Haymitch." I say. "Really, thanks." he chuckles in response. "I was your mentor, I'm supposed to be of some help." More than a little, I think.

My hand reaches the door knob, when Haymitch calls out, "Don't do anything I wouldn't do!" I crack a smile. He's so drunk.

I don't bother with wasting time. I make my way to the tree line. I'm not used to the woods. I can barely remember how to get to the lake. This is Katniss. The woods. She knows it like the back of her hand. It's just foreign to me.

Breaking sticks every chance I get. She was right, I am loud. But I really don't care. I want Katniss back in my arms. I want to be able to apologize for being a darn fool. I want to be able to caress her face again. I'm starved of human interaction. My mind is flooded with thoughts by the time I spot sight of the lake. Water sparkling in the sunlight. A beautiful creature sitting on the bank.

I ignore all of my flooded thoughts. I go by impulse. A few seconds of courage to spill my guts.

She catches sight of me. She fidgets, her brow narrowed as I near her.

"Before you say anything, listen." I say, keeping a distance between our bodies.

"I was a downright fool. And you don't know how sorry I am now. I didn't want to hurt you. I was disgusted by myself, and I felt like shutting you out, separating myself, would free you. Would protect you. But I was wrong, and I'm sorry." I sit on the grass. "Please, forgive me. I can't stand you being upset. It kills me." she contemplates for a moment. Raises a hand to meet mine, and crashes into my arms. I exhale and smile at the feeling of her weight in my arms.

"I'm sorry, too." she says, tightening her grip on my waist.

"There's nothing for you to be sorry about." I whisper, my hands feeling the strands of her dark hair.

"I should have tried harder to get to you." she says, breaking away, searching my eyes. I cup her face in my hands, my thumb trailing over her cheek. "No, Katniss. Don't blame yourself. I left you, and I shouldn't have." I embrace her again and kiss her forehead, "It'll never happen again, I swear. I love you, I always will." I say, softly. She relaxes in my arms.

"I love you." she says, her lips meeting mine. A spark exploding in my chest when she breaks away. I gently raise her chin and bring her lips back to my own. She smiles under the kiss.

"Let's go home." I say, rising to my feet, Katniss quickly following. Her hand constantly around my torso. The whole way home. Exchanging laughs and smiles. We reach Victor's Village, and my eyes veer to Haymitch's and find my former mentor sitting on his steps. A geese waddling around in his grass. He cracks me a smile, I return one. My arm tightens around Katniss' shoulder. She smiles also.

For now, we're okay, again.

Hands intertwined with my own, head on my chest. We were one again. We were whole. Her lips twitched up when I kissed her goodnight. Lulled to sleep by each other's breathing.

* * *

"Great," I said, sarcastically. I crumbled the piece of paper in my fists and threw it into the trash, treating it like the scum it is.

"What's gotten into you?" Katniss asked, her smile betraying her seriousness.

They wanted to have a party. A type of anniversary of the Games. A year of freedom. And it was not that I wasn't happy the Games were over with, illegal. I just don't want to remember it. The second we enter that place we will be bombarded with questions and terrible memories of the past that I've tried for almost a year to forget.

We were going to be the special guests.

"They want to have a stupid party to celebrate the first year without the Games." I say, leaning back into the counter top. Katniss narrowed her brow, and opened her mouth to speak but stopped herself, reached into the trash where I threw away the letter and began to unfold it.

"We should go." she says, unexpectedly.

"Why? Let them have their party." I said negatively.

"Peeta, they like their victors." She reached for my hand and held it in hers, and her eyes found mine. This girl still makes me melt.

"Fine, we'll go. But you have to wear something nice." she gave me stern look, I laughed, gave her a squeeze and brought her lips to mine.

* * *

She stood in front of the closet she never opened, and stared in. She looked completely confused.

"Katniss," I said, adjusting my tie. "We have to go soon." she sighed and leaned against the door. Cinna was all over those dresses. And I knew she missed him.

"I know." she grabbed a sky blue dress from its hanger and stomped off.

She looked radiant. She looked like a creature from a fairy tale. Something that was so beautiful, it couldn't even exist. And she was all mine.

"Beautiful." I said, helping her latch the necklace she always wore around her neck. The memory of the day kn the beach when I gave her the pearl, surfaces. She smiled and started touching her hair. She narrows her brow when she thinks. Something I've discovered over time. "Wear it up, Katniss." I said, tying the laces on my shoes. "My scars.." she said, helplessly. "Let them see your battle scars." I said, bringing my hand to her cheek. She sighed.

"I'm going to go see if Haymitch is ready." she nods, and I walk down the stairs.

"Haymitch, you ready?" I say. Walking across his house, hoping I don't find him passed out.

"Don't rush me, boy!" I hear across the house. He's not drunk. He cleans up nice. But I think if we all had our way, we wouldn't be going to this "celebration". I'd rather put everything that happened in those Games, behind me. I really don't know why they want to do this. And then it dawns on me.

They want to crawl in mine and Katniss' personal life. I mean, we were engaged. Well, for Panem. I haven't thought about marriage with Katniss. I don't want to rush things with her. She's so fragile now. And it doesn't really matter. It's just a piece of paper. That doesn't prove our love for each other. But I guess it's the symbolize of the matter.

"Peeta, Peeta!" Haymitch shakes me out of my thoughts. "huh?" I ask. "Where's Katniss?" he asks. "Oh, sorry I was thinking. She should be ready." he follows me to the house and stumbles into a chair.

She's sitting in a chair, her hands folded. Drenched in sky blue fabric. Her hair in a bun, and flats. A look of despair written on her face. "Hey, you ready to go?" I ask, reaching for her hand. "I'm ready." she swallows and takes my hand.

They've rebuilt the Justice Building. That's where the party's being held. Paintings adorn the walls. Mostly paintings of past victors. Katniss pauses when she finds the painting of herself. There's an inscription that reads,

_"Katniss Everdeen. Victor of the 74th Hunger Games along with, Peeta Mellark. Survivor of the 75th Quarter Quell. The "Mockingjay" that led the rebellion."_

Katniss quickly tugs on my arm to move on. We soon find Haymitch's painting, he grunts and moves on to the alcohol.

Katniss smiles when she finds my painting. "Look!" she says. "Oh gosh." I say, she clamps onto my arm so I can't move and I'm forced to read the inscription,

_"Peeta Mellark. Victor of the 74th Hunger Games along with, Katniss Everdeen. Survivor of the 75th Quarter Quell and survivor of Capitol torture." _

My thoughts wander back to those days of being in that hell hole. The screams of Johanna, Darius and Lavinia. The constant fear of Katniss being dead, slowly eating me alive. The Capitol servants feeding me lies. The videos, the horrible videos they forced me to watch. Of Katniss insulting me, or lying. Turning our precious moments, the ones I cherished and lived off of, into moments I feared and hated. The way they talked. seductive and misleading. Then they injected me with venom and left me to sulk in my hatful thoughts of the only person I truly loved.

I kiss Katniss' temple. Shaking the past from my head. She's here now. She's real. She's not leaving.

"Well, who do we have here?" Katniss and I spin on our heel when we here the familiar voice of Johanna Mason, herself.

"Johanna!" Katniss squeals and they embrace. "Well, you look good, brainless!" Johanna says. I let out a laugh. Katniss laughing also.

"Now, come here, my cell mate." She says, pulling me in for a hug. She looks well. Healthy. And still as sarcastic and snarky as ever.

Plutarch's voice projects through the building.

"Everyone take a seat, please." he says.

"We'll talk later." Johanna says, as she finds a seat. Katniss links her arm with mine and we take a seat next to where all the victors sit.

"Tonight we are here to celebrate a year without having to send our children into an arena. But first, we want to pay reverence to the lives that were lost, fighting for our freedom." Plutarch says, cooly. Pointing toward a screen that lies on the wall. Katniss' breath catches in her throat. "It's okay." I whisper. She nods.

The sound of a voice narrating the video booms through the building. First they show families of the victors. Katniss clutches my hand for dear life when Primrose Everdeen adorns the screen. My gaze drops when my family comes on the screen.

Finnick Odair, is next. I look down the row of victors and find Annie, with her son. Tears rolling down her cheek. Katniss' grip on my hand tightens again. And loosens when the tribute to loved ones ceases.

"That was beautiful." Plutarch claps, and soon everyone else does also. "I want to thank everyone for coming. I know it's hard to remember what happened, and our late loved ones. But we must never forget. And I hope we never do." Plutarch concludes and quietly steps off stage. President Paylor says a few words and then we're released to dance and fellowship.

We get to speak to Annie. Who doesn't seem as crazy as everyone says she is. She's just quiet, holding the miniature version of her husband in her arms. Katniss and Johanna spend a while off together, talking. While I find conversation with Haymitch. Which isn't saying much considering he's already drunk.

But I have to take a double take when I see who's talking to Katniss now. Tall, dark and olive-skinned. I feel like I'm a boy again. Watching from across the school yard. When Katniss and Gale would walk home together or talk in the school yard. Jealously roared like a lion inside of my being. But I'm not jealous anymore. Because I don't doubt Katniss. Gale was her best friend and I have no right to invade in their conversation.

But I do strode over to Katniss after I see she's ceased speaking with Gale.

"Everything okay?" I ask, wrapping my arm around her waist. "Fine. He's happy again. And so am I." she rests her head on my shoulder. Once again, I never doubted her.

"May I have this dance?" I ask her in a formal voice, much unlike my own. She laughs and playfully slaps my shoulder. "Yes." she smiles and I lead her onto the floor. My hand on her waist, her hand on my shoulder, and our hands intertwined.

"I have to say, you do look good in a suit." she laughs and adjusts my tie. I grin. "Well, you look pretty good yourself." I say.

I'm surprised some people who talk to us don't get on their hands and knees and kiss our feet. I know these people like their victors. But there's a line that shouldn't be passed. They bombard us with questions. "Are you two married yet?" "Do you plan to get married?" "Are kids in the future? Would you tell them about the Games?" And it makes me nervous and Katniss nervous.

"Let's go outside." Katniss whispers to me after a while. I follow her through the doors that lead to a balcony that over see the district.

"These people make me feel like I can't breathe. I just feel like I don't belong." She says, resting her head on my chest.

"I know. You want to go home?" I ask, rubbing her shoulders.

"Please." she says. We wander back into the commotion and find Haymitch and drag him out of the place. Saying goodbyes to the people we share the past with.

I leave Haymitch on his couch to sleep. Which he'll probably wake up soon, considering he doesn't sleep at night and it's almost midnight.

I take Katniss' hand in my own as we walk through our house. Instantly finding our way to the bedroom.

I shed of my uncomfortable suit and plop down on the bed in a shirt and pants. Katniss soon to follow.

"You don't have to answer if you don't want too. But what did Gale say?" I ask her. She rolls over and finds my eyes in the darkness.

"He wanted to know how I was doing and if I was happy." she hesitates for a moment. "And he's happy in two."

I contemplate if I should ask her, but I do.

"Are you happy?"

She stares at the ceiling and then back at me. And I can only hope she says she is happy. It would kill me if she's unhappy, because all I want is for her to be happy.

She smiles and rests her lips on my own, and breaks apart to say,

"Very."

* * *

**A/N: Oh my gosh! Longest chapter yet! I love writing long chapters! :D I hope you enjoy this, and I'm so thankful for all of your opinion. I love it so much. With school and all, I can only hope 8 will be up soon. And it will return back to Katniss' POV. But I did like writing in Peeta's POV. **

**Tell me what you think! Love you my little ones! :D**

**-Joy **


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Thank you all so much for the great reviews! I love you guys! I'm insanely happy you like my writing. And so grateful! **

**I want to give a special shout out to an extremely nice reviewer, Writingrose. Thank you so much for reading and reviewing. I love seeing your reviews, you always have something nice to say! :) **

**They are going to be some time jumps in this chapter. I want to dive in the past just a tad. :) **

**-Joy**

* * *

_I never thought that you would be the one to hold my heart_

_But you came around and you knocked me off the ground from the start_

_You put your arms around me_

_And I believe that it's easier for you to let me go_

_You put your arms me and I'm home_

_Arms - Christina Perri_

* * *

_"Are you happy, Catnip?" _

_I found his blonde waves in the crowd and his smile. His genuine smile that he gave everyone. The smile that always made my heart jump in my throat for just half a second. The smile that spoke, "hope"._

_"Yes, I am very happy." _

The conversation with Gale last night, made me think about the past a little more than I would like too.

I woke up with my father on my mind. Thinking if he was here, what he would say to me. If he would have advice for me. Kind words. A warm embrace. If he would be proud of the way I took care of Prim. Or if he would be disappointed in me that I left her, and she turned into a torch at the hands of the Capitol. So young and innocent. Pure.

I close off my thoughts for a moment and breath in the morning. The sun shining through the windows. Peeta sleeping peaceful on his stomach. Hands under his pillow. I let my hand travel to his hair. Thick waves that grow faster than anything, and really need cutting. Blonde and blue-eyed. Normal town kids. But not to me. You could never call those sparkling, radiant blues eyes "normal" to me.

I trace over the places where the flames licked his skin. Under his shoulder, neck, collarbone. He's covered in burns. Just like I am.

My thoughts drift back to that day at the City Circle. He did find his way there. The day an innocent little girl with braids, who wanted to be a doctor. Left this world sooner than anyone should. I won't get to see her get married. I won't get to be an aunt. I won't get to see my nieces and nephews on their first day of school. I won't get to be there when she's having a bad day.

I trap my sobs in my throat before they're allowed to escape. In the fear of waking Peeta from such a peaceful sleep. And focus on his scars. I really should call Doctor Aurelius and ask about some medicine to heal them.

I betray the warmness and safety of bed, lay a kiss on Peeta's shoulder and rise to my feet. With a hunter's tread I get dressed, gather my bow and head to the woods.

I find Haymitch sitting on his front steps and decide to make conversation for a moment.

"Good morning," I smile, sitting by his side.

"Mornin'" he mutters. Throwing bits of bread at geese. "How's the boy?" he asks, looking at me now. With the glint in his eyes. His lips put on a smile.

"Sleeping." I drop my gaze to the ground and fiddle with my bow. Blood rising to the surface of my skin.

"And how are you?" he asks, and I don't know exactly how to answer.

"I guess, okay." he chuckles.

"Yeah, you would be dead if he wasn't here." Am I that see through? I guess Haymitch knows about my suicide attempt. I'm not that proud of it, but I guess I can't survive without Peeta. And I hate depending on people.

"Well, I'm going hunting. I'll see you later." I say, standing up.

"You would hate to admit it." he mumbles. I don't respond. Instead I walk on the path that leads out of Victor's Village. Gathering my thoughts.

"Katniss, focus." I think. I aim at a nearby squirrel and it falls onto the ground with a thud.

After hunting for a while and checking nearby snares, I climb a tree and rest on one of the branches.

From here I can see the valleys and the mountains that lie in the distance. Blue and majestic. Mockingjays fly above me, traveling to their nests and singing to their young. I bring my knees to my chest and wrap my arms around myself. And for just a moment, I ponder in the past.

_"Well, who's this?! This isn't my Katniss, is it? It can't be! She's too clean!"_ My mother would always say that to me when my father and I would come home from the lake. She would pretend not to notice how clean I looked. It was something I looked forward to her saying every time on the way back home from the lake. That was around the same time Prim started learning "The Hanging Tree" she would sit on the floor playing with ropes. My mother was infuriated. And she would yell at my father. And I got so scared, I would run outside and hide. Block out the screams, and try to make myself small. My father would always find me with open arms. And I feel like he's still here with open arms. Watching me. Sitting right here beside me. At least I imagine he is.

I memorized his footsteps every time he came home. I knew his tread. Much like my own. Silent but memorable. My mother did also. He hated the layer of coal dust that would find its way on his mirror. Prim always wiped it off. Even after he was gone. I still remember her with a rag, wiping the dust clean, on the morning of the reaping.

_"Now, Katniss. Focus on your target. Relax. Forget your surroundings and release."_ that was when he taught me how to shoot. I never really got it right the first time.

_"It's okay, try again."_ he always told me _try again _every time I didn't do something right.

I remember when I first shot game.

_"There you go! Good girl!"_ he beamed and praised me. That day, was by far my favorite day. I loved to see him happy. His face would glow and he would be so full of joy, and it rubbed off on me, and everyone else.

I guess my father and Mr. Mellark were friends. When we would trade with Mr. Mellark when his wife wasn't around. They always made conversation. I always stayed close to father. I do remember seeing Peeta though. He never spoke. Just peaked out the window and then left. I think his brothers gave him a hard time. I always saw them teasing him. I never paid much attention to the Mellarks, though.

But I do remember the day at school when they announced that mine worker's children should go home. I remember Peeta's eyes focused on mine for a split second and then fluttered away. I took Prim's hand and found my mother in town, surrounded by crying women and impatient children. They were bringing out men and women left and right out of that mine, one had to be my father. It had to be. But night came too soon. They told us there was nothing they could do. My father was dead. Killed in a coal mine. Leaving two daughters and a wife behind to fend on their own. I couldn't cry. I was too numb to cry. I just sat on my bed and stared at a wall. I couldn't process it. I couldn't believe he was gone. I only started to believe it when Prim believed it. And I held her as we both cried that night.

But I went to school the next day. Everyone thought I was "cool" because I got a medal. I would have glady traded that medal for my father any day.

Peeta Mellark kept his eyes trained on me through out the school day, and he started to walk towards me, but turned around.

Food was running out. Prim was getting skinner. My mother was unreachable. Dead to the world. I was too weak to barley move. So I gathered anything we could sell and made me way to town. No one wanted anything. No one cared about an 11-year-old girl whose father died. And I resorted to the garbage cans. Nothing. Being chased off by the witch, Mrs. Mellark, I sunk down by a tree and accepted my death. Until those two loaves of bread landed at my feet. Without a single glance from the giver. His cheek was swollen the next day. I never did look at Peeta Mellark quite the same after that day.

Life had a cruel way of treating us 5 years later, the day our worlds changed, forever. Somehow life brought us together. And I'm glad it did. But if I could, I would bring my father back and Prim. Because I can't stand the pain that hits me full force when I realize that I'll never see them again.

Life is so short, and so sacred. It can end in a split second. I've found that out the hard way.

I welcome the tears that fall. It means I'm alive, breathing, living. Walking on this cruel earth.

I gather myself and my feet make contact with the earth, and I leave the comfort and privacy of the woods and walk home. I get a few waves and smiles from neighbors. Quickly returned. I drop off the rabbits at Haymitch's. He'll need something to eat. And it's not like I really need to hunt. I just do it for the peacefulness of the woods. I can always sort out my thoughts there.

I open the door and instantly find the scent of bread meeting my senses. I sigh and find Peeta kneading bread.

I don't speak. I just walk up to him and hug him. Because I really just need a hug. Just to know someone does care.

"Hey, what's wrong?" He asks, wiping his hands on his apron and returning a warm embrace. And I sigh in his arms.

"I just wanted to see you." I whisper to his chest. He laughs and wraps his arms around me.

"Well, this is not like you." I feel his grin. And I hear his steady heartbeat.

"I'm not the same Katniss." I admit. He pulls ways and looks me in the eyes.

"You are still Katniss. You've just changed. You went through a lot, cut yourself some slack." he's right.

"I love you," And I mean it. I truly do. Every fiber of my being loves Peeta.

"I love _you_." he pulls me back into his arms. And I feel safe. Free from the past. Happy, in these arms. I'm safe from the nightmares that hunt me down.

"Promise me something?" I say.

"Anything." He says.

"Never leave me." I say.

"Promise." He says.

Summer quickly turned into Autumn. The green leaves turned yellow. And the summer breeze turned into a cool wisp.

It's been a year since I came back from 13. And I don't quite understand how a year could pass so quickly without Prim here.

Peeta's bakery is running full force. He's hired some men to work for him. And the district kids constantly get free cookies, because Peeta can't refuse them.

Most people love that their children get to say hello to victors. Some rip their children away. I often wonder if they still think we're mentally disoriented.

Of the past few months, nothing has changed. Peeta bakes, I hunt, Haymitch drinks. And I like it that way. It's normal. Something I haven't gotten a taste of before. Peeta's episodes rarely come, and if they do, he's controls them. Unfortunately, my nightmares have not gone away, and I don't think the ever will. But Peeta's arms are there to comfort me. Mine are also there to comfort him when he has his nightmares.

_I remember a night a few days ago, when my arms were the only thing that held him together. It took me back, tables turned that night. _

_He froze. I was asleep until his sudden freeze jolted me from a night's sleep. _

_"Peeta," I said softly, rubbing his cheek with my thumb. "Peeta." I whispered, firmly. He muttered something and his eyes flew open._

_"Katniss!" he said, frantically. "Shh, I'm here. It's okay." I said, resting my head right in front of his. _

_He had a petrified look on his face. The face prey wear when they know they've been put in a trap they can't possibly escape. _

_He nudged closer to me and I wrapped my arms around his frame. "You want to talk about it?" I asked him, rubbing his hair between my fingers. He inhaled, "Clove... She killed you... And I couldn't save you... You were dead..." _

_I've been haunted by those. The constant fear that Peeta would be killed by one of the tributes in our first Games. Those were the nights I cried myself to sleep. Or I couldn't sleep at all. The one person that hadn't left me, promised me he would stay, was killed in my dreams. It's more painful than anyone could imagine. _

_"I'm here now." I drew back and looked him in the eye. "I'm not dead." he nodded and I held him close, and he pulled me closer than we had ever held each other. I knew that he felt like he would lose grip on reality, if we let go of each other. So we didn't. And we never will. _

I made a promise to myself that night, and Peeta. That I will never leave him. I will never turn into my mother and make Peeta fight by himself. Because when you truly love someone; you don't give up on them. You stick by them. No matter what the cost.

my world stopped for a moment when I answered the phone and found my mother's voice on the other side.

"Katniss, I've missed you." she says, softly.

"Me too. How are you?" I ask. She hesitates for a moment, then speaks.

"Work keeps me busy. But I miss you, and District 12. How are you?"

It seems like I've been asked that question a lot.

"I'm as good as I'll ever be. 12 is thriving. Kids are running everywhere and Peeta built a new bakery, and-" she interrupts me before I can finish.

"Peeta, how is he doing?"

"Peeta's fine. His flashbacks aren't that bad anymore." I say.

"So, are you two, together?" That's a question I don't really know how to answer. And I have the freedom to answer it anyway I like, because Peeta's at the bakery.

"I love him, mom. He saved my life. On more than one occasion. I really do love him." I say, meaning every word.

"I'm glad. I knew you loved him. All of Panem knew, even if you didn't want to admit it." It's true. The way I acted when he almost died in the Quell, convinced Snow. Gave him what he wanted. Now he's dead, and can no longer kill the children of Panem. If only he could stop killing children in my sleep.

We finish our conversation and soon say our goodbyes. I feel better after speaking to her. To know that she stills cares, she just can't come down here. There's too much pain that dwells in 12 for her. She just can't stand the sight of primroses. Or the coal dust that still settles in certain places. And I can't blame her. But this is my home. And I don't plan on leaving 12.

I catch sight of a blonde, flour covered, Peeta walking up the road and I stand on the porch to meet him. He grins and we embrace.

"How was your day?" I ask. He smiles and pulls a letter out of his pocket.

"Fine. Got a letter from Delly today." he says, closing the door behind us.

"What'd she say?" I ask, pulling the letter from his hand.

"Well, for starters she's engaged to someone she met in 13." Who wouldn't want to marry Delly. She's the kindest person that walks the earth.

"That's nice." I smile. I'm glad she met someone. I'm just happy people can start over.

The sky quickly turned gray as rain sprinkled on the windows. Creating a pleasant, calming sound.

"Katniss, a got a call from Doctor Aurelius." he sits down beside me on the window seat, watching the rain race down the window.

"I have to go back to the Capitol. They want to fit me for a new prosthetic. I'll only be gone for a few days." They would do this to me. They would take him away and make sure I couldn't go with him.

"I can't go with you. The only reason I wasn't executed was because Doctor Aurelius claimed I was disoriented. Therefore I can't leave the district." I say, staring at the raindrops running across the window.

"I know. I'll be back soon." His arm scoops around my shoulder. "When do you leave?" I ask, resting my head on his shoulder. "Day after tomorrow." he sighs.

The day after tomorrow comes too quickly. And I'm already helping him pack his bags.

I guess I should have noticed he needed a new prosthetic. The way he was constantly rubbing above his knee, and groaning when he put pressure on his left leg. He never spoke of it though. He never said he was in pain. Because Peeta never complains. He shoves down his feelings until he bursts. And his bursts usually turned into flashbacks. I'm the one that's got to learn to decipher his code.

Too soon we're walking out of the door to the train station. "Answer the phone. I'll call you when I get there." he promises.

"Okay. Be careful." I say. I know it seems stupid for me to get high-strung because Peeta's leaving for just a few days, but it's going to be hard to be alone the next few days.

"I will." the train whistles goes off, notifying that all should be aboard.

"I love you." I collapse in his arms, and he kisses my head. His warmth radiating through my body. The feeling of fall, quickly escaping.

"I love you." his lips meet mine, and for just one moment, we're the only people in the world. And I feel that thing again, blooming in my chest. That thing that spreads throughout my entire being.

But too soon, we break apart. And I'm left standing on a wooden platform, waving a goodbye to a moving train.


	9. Chapter 9

_But who could do without you?_

_And who could do without you?_

_Oh, we're a pretty, pretty pair_

_Yes, we are_

_All, all the king's horses_

_And all of his men_

_Couldn't tear us apart_

_Dancing with a ball and chain_

_Through it all we still remain_

_Butterflies around the flame_

_Till ashes, ashes, we fade away_

_Birds Of A Feather - The Civil Wars_

* * *

Minutes quickly turned into hours and sleep did not grace me. I walked home after his train left. Started a fire, sat down and warmed myself in front of the flames. And waited for his call. Most likely he won't call until tomorrow. But that didn't stop me from hoping the phone would ring.

Sick of the eerie silence I turn on the television. Finding the normal Capitol noise. Fawning over the normal people they fawn over. And I don't pay much attention until I see Peeta's face flash on the screen.

"Today, a source told us that Peeta Mellark, victor of the 74th Hunger Games, was photographed at the District 12 train station with Katniss Everdeen. Also victor of the 74th Hunger Games." A woman with skinny features and beady eyes says so enthusiastically, it makes my skin crawl.

A photo lights up the screen, showing me with my normal braid down my back, on the train platform, holding onto Peeta's jacket collar, kissing him full on the mouth. I didn't think that they were people from the Capitol actually spying on us. After all we've went through and we can't be normal for just one moment? I should have known better then to kiss him in public. I thought we were safe from the Capitol here in 12.

"It looks like these two fancy each other. We have to see what happens here, don't we?" she grins in the most appalling manner and I switch off the television in frustration.

This infuriates me more than I should let it, but it does. I can't do anything to get away from the Capitol. I decide to push away my anger and walk toward the nearby book shelf. Running my fingers over the spines, I find a book I haven't opened in a while.

The memory book.

I slide it off the shelf and settle on the couch. Opening the pages that show Peeta's drawings of the ones we lost. My father the first entry. His features exactly like I remembered this. Strong, caring, and loving. Prim's next and I find a small picture in the corner, of Lady licking her cheek. I smile at the memory of Prim sitting by the fire and Lady laying beside her. I spend hours going through that book. Stopping the tears when they threaten to fall. Running my fingers over the faces. Staring at the picture of Annie's and Finnick's baby. How much joy he's brought Annie. And before I comprehend it, dawn is outside of the windows. Sun slowly rising. A distant meow coming from the back door.

I stretch my stiff limbs and find Buttercup scratching on the door.

"Hey ugly." I scratch him between his ears. He walks inside, and sits in the middle of the floor and meows again.

"No, Peeta's not here." I say. Buttercup's pretty fond of Peeta. Always rubbing him between his legs.

He let's out another wail at the sound of "Peeta". I think he likes everyone but me. I scratch his head again and give him some left over dinner, and settle on the couch again. Watching the sun come up. I end up knee-deep in thoughts of the future. What does it hold? Will Peeta and I be married in twenty years? Children running around, laughing? I haven't forgotten that dream I had. The little girl who settled in Peeta's lap. He was so happy. He beamed with joy. I'm not so sure I want children. And I mentally kick myself because that's selfish. Frankly, marriage. I'm not so scared about. I love Peeta. If he wants to get married, and make that promise. I'd do it in a heartbeat, but children. That's a different story. I don't want to taint something so sacred and precious. But taking that joy away from Peeta, cracks my heart.

A loud ring untangled me from my thoughts.

"Hello?" I say, a little too excitedly.

"Hey!" I inhale when I hear Peeta's voice.

"How's the Capitol?" I ask. I really don't care how the Capitol is doing. Just Peeta's voice is soothing.

"As good as it'll ever be, I guess. You miss me yet?" he asks, I can just see that smile painted on his face.

"Well, Buttercup misses you. And me too, wipe that stupid grin off your face." he laughs and I catch myself smiling.

"Did you see the news report?" I ask him. He hesitates. "No, what was it about?"

"Well, someone got a picture of me giving you a goodbye kiss at the train station." The line goes dead for a moment, and then comes to life with his laugh.

"It's not funny!" I say sternly. "The way you said it was. Come on, Katniss. It's the Capitol. They're known for doing stuff like that." he says, and I know he's right.

"I have to go and see Doctor Aurelius. I'll call later. And go check on Haymitch. Love you." I return an I love you and hang up. A smile playing on my features.

I put on my jacket and face the fall wind, and find Haymitch sprawled out on his couch. Liquor bottles stand up on the table. Some broken, some whole. I manage to fight through the stench and find a kettle and boil some water for tea. He makes a snort sound and curses when he sees that I'm in his house.

"Why are you here?" he says, stumbling on his words.

"Because Peeta asked me to check on you. Now, get up." I shake his shoulder and make my way back to the kitchen, grab a mug and fill it with tea. Placing it in his shaky hand.

"Why didn't he come over himself?" he sits up and takes silent sips from the mug.

"He's in the Capitol. He needed a new prosthetic." Haymitch rolls his eyes and groans. "That doesn't mean you're gonna be all mushy and teary is it? Cause' I can't take that." I chuckle silently. "No, Haymitch. I think I'll be fine." I say, standing on my feet. "Good, now leave an old man to sleep." he settles back into his recent place and I make my way out of his house.

I trail into town and pick up any letters. Mostly Capitol matters, and I disregard those quickly. Although one catches my eye. Addressed from Johannah Mason.

"Dear Brainless,

I'm coming down for a visit. I hope that you're tounge is not down Peeta's throat when I arrive. If you do that in public, I really don't want to know what happens behind closed doors.

I'll be there the day after you get his letter. Or I could pop up anytime, probably the latter.

Johanna Mason"

Well, this should be interesting. I hurriedly stuff the letter back in the envelope, and walk home. Peeta should be calling soon, and I have to tell him that Johannah's coming down.

I fight the feeling of emptiness of walking into an empty house. When did I get this attached to Peeta? And the phone starts ringing by the time I lay the letters on the tables.

"Hello?"

"Hey, good news and bad news. Which first?" he says, causally.

"Bad. Get it over with." I say. It can't be that bad.

"Well, they want to interview me. The Capitol, that is. Good news, I can come home the day after tomorrow." two more nights, and I can sleep peacefully again.

"Let them interview you. Get it over with. I can't wait to see it on television." the latter coming off sarcastically. I even let out a "woo" of excitement, just to get a laugh out of him.

"Okay. Maybe they won't drive me to suicide." I cringe. Death isn't much of a laughing matter. I think Peeta senses I'm uncomfortable and back pedals.

"How was your day?" he asks, softly.

"Johannah's coming down." he lets out a laugh and cough and composes himself.

"When?"

"It's Johannah, Peeta. Who knows." he laughs, and I begin to speak but I hear a knock at the door.

"And I think she just got here. Hold on." I place the receiver on the table and answer the door.

"Oh thank God! You're clothed." she rolls her eyes and stomps in before I can even speak. Typical Johannah.

"There's this thing, you know, waiting until your invited inside?" I say, slamming the door. Her hair is still growing, and she's letting it grow out. It circles around her face. Her lips in a grin. You would have never thought she was tortured for two months.

"What fun is that?" she says, laughing. Dropping her bags on the floor. "Where's Peeta?" she asks.

"Capitol. We were just talking about you." I say, pointing toward the phone receiver. "Don't let me stop you!" she says, pulling her feet on the couch, making herself at home. I grab the receiver and speak. "Sorry. Johannah just got here." I say so cheerfully sarcastic cheeriness that I hear Johannah laughing in the living room.

"Go talk. I'll call tomorrow and I'll see you Thursday. And I guess you'll see the interview tomorrow." he says.

"Okay, I love you." I hear Johannah groaning.

"Love you too." He says.

I put the receiver back on the wall and paint a smile on my face.

"Oh my God." Johannah says, sounding out every syllable.

"You two are just adorable." her voice reeks of sarcasm. And she throws her head back. I laugh, and sit beside her.

"Thank you!" I say cheerfully, annoying her.

"How are you?" I say on a serious note.

She stares through a nearby window. "I guess as good as someone can get after a war." I know what she means. It's hard losing everyone you love. Johannah lost her whole family.

"Is Peeta doing better with his flashbacks?" she asks. "Yeah, a lot better. He still has them, just not as bad." I say. "He's lucky. They messed him up really bad in there, Katniss. You don't have his screams permanently etched in your head." for one moment, she's serious. And frankly I'm glad I don't have his screams memorized.

"I know." I let out a puff of air, and find myself staring out that window again.

"So, how are you doing?" she asks, actually giving me a friendly smile. I rise to my feet and I feel her eyes following me. My hand glides to the window pain.

"Have you ever had that feeling of being at a dead-end? You don't know where to go, what to do, and you feel like the future will never come?" I watch the clouds for a moment and turn around and meet her gaze, she nods slowly.

"I'm very familiar with that feeling. When you get at that dead-end, you kinda have to make something change, yourself. Do something crazy, take a leap." Her eyes wander off, and she looks to be in some far off world, but still talking. Just not meeting my gaze.

"Something specific, Katniss?" she's not using a sarcastic tone, she actually wants to hear my problems. Something I can't talk about with anyone, not even the person who the problem is about.

"Peeta." I say, quietly. "I thought you two were okay? You were over there all mushy ten minutes ago." she says, her eyes focusing on mine. Almost like she can read my mind.

"I had this dream, and me and Peeta were, probably in our thirty's and there was this little girl, and she called me mama, and I haven't been able to forget that dream and it's been a year. I'm fighting with myself. I don't know if I want that dream a reality or not." Johannah smiles and speaks, "Sounds like you do want that. Katniss, you're tired of the same old thing. You want to grow old with him, and you want kids. Just not now. But you will, soon. I know change can terrify you, but sometimes it's for the best." She gives me a quiet glance and looks down at her feet. "You and Peeta have something real special." I grin. I guess we do.

We talk for hours on end and finally fall asleep in the living room. Thankful, I didn't have any nightmares, so I didn't scare the living daylights out of her. But soon I sense someone tapping my shoulder and a hazy figure comes into my line of vision.

"Peeta's interview is on." She yawns and turns up the television.

He looks like himself. Blonde waves cascade over his forehead, and he's smiling, as usual.

"So, Peeta, tell us. Do you and Katniss plan to tie the knot soon?" The broad shoulder, man with green hair and odd color of skin, asks Peeta. He shakes his head and smiles, not showing any teeth. "I don't really know, to be honest." I wonder if Peeta ever thinks about what I think about. The future. The terrifying future.

"You're going to have to take care of that!" the Capitol man jokes and chuckles at his own joke. Peeta smiles, and nods. I'm glad he's not sharing our personal life all over Panem.

They go on to ask him more questions that I know the answers too, and I soon get up to cook breakfast.

Johannah walks in rubbing her head and sits down on a stool.

"He wants to marry you." my stomach lurches for a second and I meet her eyes.

"Good morning to you too." I turn around and continue to cut fruit.

"You're so blind! Did you see his face? He loves you so much, Katniss!" I betray the fruit and turn around. I know it's true. I know that more than anything Peeta and I love each other and why should I be afraid of such a thing? Why should I be such a coward?

"I know Johannah, I am blind. I choose to be. I don't want to marry him! I'll lose him! I make a commitment to a person and they leave me!" I'm yelling and hot tears run down my cheeks. And out of the corner of my eye I see Johannah come embrace me.

"Stop, stop crying and listen." she says softy. She forces me to make eye contact.

"We do not live in the world we used too. Bad things happen, but the good things outweigh the bad. And Peeta is a good thing for you. Don't push him away. He needs you as much as you need him. He won't leave you. I swear."

She gives me a look of sympathy and hugs me. And the only thing I can form in my mind is that, we don't live in the world we used too. So why should I be so afraid? But it's the thought of being so attached to someone. I was attached to my father, he died. I was attached to Prim, she died. I was attached to Gale, he left. And now I'm attached to Peeta and I have been for 3 years.

I run my palms over my cheeks and continue with breakfast. The phone rings and I hold back a sniffle and answer.

"Hello?"

"Hey, I'm getting on a train in a few minutes, they said I could go ahead and leave, so I'm on my way with a brand new leg. How's Johannah?" he chuckles and I smile in response.

"Fine, we're having bunches of fun." I say, and Johannah grabs the phone from my hand.

"She's a horrible cook!" she says and returns the phone to me. Peeta's laughing and I'm trying not to strangle Johannah.

"You're not that bad." he laughs in between words. "I'll be on the 11:00 am train. I'll see you later tonight." he says and we say our goodbyes.

"He'll be here later tonight." I say, sitting by Johannah.

"Oh, well I'll go hang out with Haymitch. So you two can have your love fest." she says, rolling her eyes.

"You don't have to go." I say, catching my cheeks burning. "Believe me, I do." she exhales and we spend our day laughing at each other, and it feels good to have another female around to laugh with and talk too.

"We better go to the station. Peeta's train should be there in about 20 minutes." I say, Johannah nods and we put on our coats and walk to the train station.

"You're not lonely in 7, Johannah?" she pauses for a moment and halts to look at me.

"7 is my home. I'll just get me a dog or something." I feel sympathy for her. She's lost her whole family, and there's no one home to return too. But I don't argue and we don't speak until we arrive at the station, and the whistle sounds, notifying the arrival of the train.

The train halts and I catch sight of Peeta's head moving past windows in a crowd. He soon walks down the stairs, drops his bags and embraces me.

"I missed you." he says, leaning in for a kiss, and we're soon interrupted by Johannah, "Oh dear God." I give her a scowl and Peeta backs away and gives Johannah a hug and returns to my side.

"You two go home, I'll stay with Haymitch." Peeta tries to argue with her, telling her she could stay, but she waves him off and walks back to Victor's Village. Hand in hand, Peeta and I walk home awhile after Johannah does.

"I missed you too." I say, leaning up against his side. He chuckles, "Well, I won't have to go back for another 3 years. And they did some tests. They said I've really improved from the hijacking." I tighten my grip on his hand for a moment and smile. "I knew you would." I say.

The sound of feet hitting gravel soon turns into feet hitting wood and we are soon comforted by the heat of a fire. We shed our layers of coats and curl onto the couch.

"Did you see my interview?" Peeta asks, twirling the end of my braid between his thumbs.

"Just the first part, I got hungry and I cooked breakfast." I laugh under my breath and Peeta nods.

"Thank you for not giving them details." I whisper. Laying my head on Peeta's lap.

"I wouldn't do that." he says. I nod and move my head to watch the flames consume firewood.

"I don't know why they're so obsessed with us." he pulls the strand from my braid and starts playing with my hair. Something I find comforting. Ever since the nights in the cave, I find Peeta playing with my hair, something I enjoy.

"You know why." I turn my gaze toward his. "Two people who were put in dire circumstances and still somehow love each other? It's a love story to them and they want to see us have a happy ending." I keep my gaze locked on Peeta's blue eyes and wait for him to speak, but he doesn't. He raises my body and plants a kiss on my lips. But this one's not like his normal kisses, it's deep and full of passion. I return it and we don't stop until we have to come up for air.

"I love you." he whispers softly. "I love you too." it's a promise. Not something Peeta and I throw around. It's a promise that we are still alive, we are still walking and laughing and loving, that we care about each other and neither one of us is going anywhere.

* * *

**A/N: Hey everyone! I'm so thankful for all of the fantastic reviews I got from chapter 8! Thank you so much, to all of you. **

**Hmmm, could Johannah have changed Katniss' outlook on the future? **

**I'm slowly trying to break Katniss' stubbornness. So, we'll see how this goes. I know a lot of you didn't want marriage, but I really don't know where else to turn. I don't think I'll be writing marriage in the next chapter, but I want break Katniss' shell a little. I'm just giving everyone a fair warning! Love you all so much, and can't wait to read your reviews!**

**P.S. This song by The Civil Wars, is PERFECT for Katniss and Peeta! Go listen to it! ;)**

**-Joy **


	10. Chapter 10

_I am still running, I am still running_

_Build me a home inside your scars_

_Build me a home inside your song_

_Build me a home inside your open arms_

_The only place I ever will belong_

_I Am Still Running - Jon Foreman_

* * *

Johannah soon left after a few days, and I have to admit, I do miss her.

The fall breeze soon turned into a winter brisk that made you cherish body heat. Snow falling on the window sills, something I always found intresting. Every single snowflake is different. Each one has a different design, pattern. Each one falls and new ones come to replace it. I was constantly losing myself in thought when I started to watch the snowflakes flutter down. Peeta would tease me for sitting for hours on the window seat, just staring into the vast, empty meadow.

I started to find sketches of myself on the window seat in his notebooks. A girl with her hand resting on the window pane. A look of fascination written on her features. A smile slowly forming on her lips.

Another one, her gaze on the artist sketching her. She's laughing. She has a sparkle in her eye and she's grinning from ear to ear.

I can only hope that's how I look, because how I think I look is fickle.

"Let's go to the meadow!" I say, grinning as Peeta meets my gaze.

"Katniss, it's snowing." his voice comes off more softly than I think he wanted.

"I know, it'll be fun, come on!" I playfully tug his arm and he obliges and hands me my coat.

"The things I do for you.." he mutters under his breath, I smile.

I loop my arm around Peeta's and gather somewhat of his body heat. 12 winters are rough. I can see my breath practically freeze in front of my face when I exhale. But I don't complain. Instead I smile and drag Peeta along. There's no longer a barbwire fence that separated you from the meadow, so you can walk ahead without any fear of someone arresting you for trespassing. Trees grow in the meadow, burdened down with snow. Icicles making sharp ends on tree branches.

They haven't made many changes to the meadow. The grass has grown over the overturned dirt. Although you can't see grass for miles. Everything is white. But they have placed a bench in the meadow, under a willow tree. Where Peeta and I sit now. Looking into the distance. The trees that make up District 12. The woods close to our right, making up the otherwise vast, empty field.

I haven't hunted in what feels like months. Peeta causally tells me I should, but I just don't feel like tracking into the snow. Lately I feel like just taking in my surroundings. Counting everyday as a miracle. Cherishing every moment. Knowing in the back of my mind, it could be gone faster then I could blink.

I squeeze Peeta's hand in my own, his gaze meeting mine, his eyes speaking volumes louder than words. Our lips meet each other's and it no longer felt like winter. The warmth radiated through my body like the sun on a hot summer day, and I felt like I would fall off the edge of the earth if his lips left my own.

"How is this real?" Peeta asked, drawing back and cupping my face, tracing circles on my cheek. I gave him a look of confusion. And he spoke again, "This feels like a dream, and I'm terrified I'm going to wake up." he squeezed my hand again.

"This is real, I promise." I betrayed the space between us and kissed him again. Peeta muttering I love you's in between kisses. My lips left his and I sunk down by his side.

"It's so pretty here." I whisper. Peeta nods and I catch sight of a mockingjay soaring through the clouds. Weightless and free. I whistle the tune that Rue taught me. Closing my eyes and remembering the little girl and how much she loved to sing. Praying that when I open my eyes she would be here. Holding my hand, leading me through the woods. Just like the bird that had her voice in my dream did.

But when I open my eyes I just find snow. And the black leather of Peeta's coat by my face. Peeta shifts for a second then nudges my hand.

"Come on," he grins and I oblige and follow.

He faces the ground for a second and gathers a handful of snow he soon makes into a ball.

"Peeta Mellark, do it and you'll be sleeping outside." my smile betrays the tone of my seriousness and he grins.

"Really?" he grins and I dodge for the nearest tree when I feel the impact of snow meet the back of my coat. I hear his laughter fill the air and I gather snow in my fist and throw it at him square in the gut.

"You know, I've got some great aim." I yell across the distance and he chuckles. And before I know it, I've been hit again. Soon finding more snow and hitting him everytime.

"Okay, okay! I surrender!" he throws his hands up and walks towards me. "So, I'm the winner here?" I ask when he's close enough to hear. He chuckles and pecks me on the cheek. "We'll see..." the sound of his voice is suspicious and he runs away when I notice he put snow down my back.

"You're such a child!" I laugh and try to shake the snow out of my coat. I collapse back on the bench where Peeta already sits, feet toward his hips, back against the arm rest.

"Guess I win." Peeta says. "You win." I say, defeated, brushing the snow off my pants.

—

"Why do you love me?" I ask Peeta. We're so broken, I think. Breaking the silence that engulfed us while waiting for sleep to grace each other. Peeta gives me a look of confusion then his lips turn into a smile and he pushes a piece of hair away from my face.

"Because when you sing, even the birds fall silent." I push his bare shoulder and scowl. "That was my dad." I say. Peeta rests his arm across my stomach and tucks me into his frame. His breath tickling my ear.

"You have his voice." I smile at the memory of my father singing in the woods. I would look up at the trees and wait for the mockingjays to pick up his melody. I didn't look up into the trees very much after my father's voice ceased.

"And do you know why I love you?" I whisper and crane my neck to find his blue eyes in the darkness.

"Why?" he rolls his eyes and chuckles under his breath.

"Because you don't leave. You make me feel like I'm home. And where you are, I am home." I turn my body to face his and wrap my arms around his waist. He kisses the top of my head and strokes my hair until I'm sent into the solitude of sleep.

_When a pool of blood gets so big, there's no going back. And I can't save him. Peeta lies on his back, unconscious in a pool of blood. Tears run down my cheeks._

_"Peeta! Peeta! Wake up!" I scream and plead. "Please!" Sobs rock my body and I can't stop. I start making those sobbing sounds and I keep hearing growling in the dark. We're in the arena again. The mutts are coming to kill me. And they should. Because Peeta's already dead and I have nothing to live for if he's dead. _

_I see the mutt now. I grab Peeta's lifeless hand and wait for the mutt to kill me. But he doesn't. The crowd of mutts surround Peeta's limp body and pull him into the darkness. And I can't save him. I can't move. I'm screaming my head off and I can't reach him. _

A scream awakes me from my horrid nightmare, and it's my own. I sit straight up and sobs attack my body. I feel a hand crawl up my back, but I don't bother to acknowledge it. I cover my face with my hands and try to stop the images from attacking me. All I can see is Peeta's blonde hair stained with blood and the mutt taking the his only chance at life.

"Katniss!" untangles me from my thoughts and jolts me back to reality. I learn to breath again and slowly turn around to meet Peeta's gaze. But instead of comfort I feel wracking sobs take over again and I dive into his arms.

Peeta offers words of comfort and rubs circles on my back. I don't speak. I catch the sob in my throat and crash my lips onto his. I stop and breath, "The mutts killed you." I sutter and he kisses me again. His lips are the only thing I need to reassure me. I practically feel flames engulfing us and Peeta deepens the kiss, my hands find his chest, and his hands travel to my waist. But he hesitates. "Katniss-" he gets out before my lips find his again. "I can't-" I search his eyes. "Not yet. Not now." I don't argue. I fall limp in his arms, and fall asleep to the rythm of our breathing.

—

I subconsciouslly search for Peeta's warmth when the sun shining through the windows awake me. I feel emptiness crawl into my chest, but I push it. I shut the door. Pain is not welcome anymore. I find Peeta on the edge of the bed, his blonde hair ruffled and messy, his head in his hands. I don't know why he looks ashamed. Or maybe I do. We almost went somewhere we never went before.

I move to his side, looping my arms around his waist. He looks into my eyes and offers a small smile.

"Tell me." I lay my head on his shoulder and he wraps his arm around my shoulder.

"I'm sorry. About last ni-" I stop him and raise my head to meet his gaze.

"Peeta, don't worry about it." I smile. And push down my true reasons of agreeing with him. "Now, go fix me some breakfast!" I poke his side, he smiles and laughs. He rises to his feet and walks out the door.

I lean back into the sheets and close my eyes for just a moment. Thinking about the little girl in the dream I had. Dark hair, like me. Blue eyes like Peeta's. A perfect combination of us. So happy. So innocent, and pure. And the dandelions. Those flowers that told me I still had hope. I could get through those days. And I've become so oblivious to it until now. Peeta and I are one. A whole. Something that cannot be broken. Some how bind together by the hands of time. Brought together by survival and kept together by fierce love for one another. And I start to wonder how long I've been this stupid.

For years, the only thing that helped me survive was brick walls. I was a brick wall. I couldn't be broken, I couldn't love someone else but Prim. And Peeta got in those walls somehow, ever since he threw me that bread, I've never been able to shake the connection. Ever since he kissed me in that cave, I've never been the same. The old Katniss was blown away by the four winds when I felt that stirring in my chest. I clutch the pearl that hangs around my neck for a moment and smile.

Peeta and I are a whole. An unbreakable whole.

Peeta's voice calls me from my thoughts and I find myself walking down the stairs. Peeta sitting at the table.

I come up behind him and wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him on his temple. He smiles.

Breakfast is soon eaten and forgotten. And I soon find myself watching Peeta travel to the bakery, apron in hand. And for just a second, I close my eyes and imagine a little dark-haired girl walking beside him. Holding his hand. Laughing. The contrast of blonde and black hair meeting each other as he gives her a hug, and watches her travel to school.

But when I open my eyes again, not a living soul walks on the road.

Haymitch comes stumbling in and I compose myself.

"Doorbell?" I ask him. He waves me off and falls into a chair. I give up on rebuking him and sit into a chair myself.

"What's wrong?" he asks. I'm pretty much sick of people seeing right through me. "Nothing, Haymitch." I say. "Get out of the house, sweetheart." I know I need too. So I take his advice, grab my jacket and throw it around my shoulders. Making my way through the meadow and to the tree line. The wind is harsh and there's not much to hunt. So I make my way to the lake. It's takes longer to get there because of the cold and the snow. But the mockingjays keep me alert.

The lake is pretty much frozen over. So I make a fire in the concrete cabin and remember when Gale was here with me.

_"I love you."_

_"I know."_

I do hope he found love in District 2 because I can't stand the thought of him being alone. And I know that if Prim was never reaped, Gale wouldn't be off in 2. He would probably be right here, now. But I can't change fate. The Games _did_ happen, and there's nothing I can do to bring Gale back. Any feeling I had for Gale was released after my name was called at the Quarter Quell reaping. My biggest priority was to protect Peeta. But I will never forget Gale. He was my best friend, and I will always hold a place for him in my heart.

I manage to kill some game that I'll be giving to some of the people around town who are not as fortune as others. They are still some people who don't have enough, and I can't stand to have money coming out of my ears, and see people who are in the same situation I used to be in.

I knock on their door. They live far off away from Victor's Village and away from town. Eddie and Vicci Merlin. They have a three kids. And they don't like handouts, but I insist on dropping off game for them, and leaving money on their table that they would otherwise not accept.

"Oh, Katniss!" Vicci beams when she opens the door. I've been here a few times when I saw them move in the first of winter. I saw how hollow their children looked and immediately introduced myself so I could help. And they treated me like a human being, not a victor.

Vicci invites me inside and I give her a hug. Her youngest son, Cole wraps his arms around my legs and I smile, grab him in my arms and give him a hug. The other kids, Hugh and Daisy are off at school.

The Merlin family doesn't look very District 12. Vicci has long red hair and brown eyes. Eddie has brown hair, and the kids all favor Vicci. Cole is 3, Hugh is 8, and Daisy is 11. Hugh's personality reminds me of Peeta's.

"This should last you a few days." I hand her my game bag full of rabbits and squirrels. "If you need me too, I can teach Eddie to skin them." she smiles, and lays the game across the table. "Eddie knows how. Really, Katniss. You don't have to do this." I simply shake my head. "I want too." Cole grabs my hand and smiles with his favorite teddy bear in hand.

"I'll see you soon, Cole." I smile and give him a hug. Vicci thanks me and Cole mutters a goodbye the best a 3-year-old can.

I managed to leave a few dollars hidden in the game bag I gave to Vicci. They won't accept it, and I know they need it. But I like them. They're kids will never be sent off to an arena and I won't have to watch them starve if I can continue to help them, and possibly get Peeta to hire Eddie at the bakery.

By the time I get home, Haymitch is gone and Peeta sits on the couch. I shed my layers and curl up beside him.

"I went and saw Eddie and Vicci Merlin today." I say. "Are they doing okay?" he asks, shifting the sketch pad on his knee.

"Fine, for now. You should hire Eddie at the bakery. They could use the extra cash." I reply. He nods and says, "I could use some help. I'll talk to him tomorrow." I whisper a thank you and soon fall asleep to the crackling of the fire.

Peeta picks me up in his arms and carries me to bed. Tucking the blankets over me and laying down beside me, his arms across my side. And I fall asleep to the smell of cinnamon and dill. The word _always_ playing circles in my head.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks to everyone for the wonderful reviews! Special thanks to OpalStars for reading and reviewing. **

**I'll see y'all soon! Leave me some reviews! ;)**

**-Joy **


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: I am not Suzanne Collins, nor do I claim to be. All characters are property of Suzanne. No copyright infringement intended.**

* * *

_I have died everyday waiting for you_

_Darling don't be afraid_

_I have loved you for a thousand years_

_I'll love you for a thousand more_

_All along I believed I would find you_

_Time has brought your heart to me_

_I have loved you for a thousand years_

_I'll love you for a thousand more_

_Christina Perri - A Thousand Years_

* * *

It was a Saturday, Peeta didn't have to work, so we had the day to ourselves. I woke up later then I usually did, the sun didn't break through the winter clouds and shine through the windows. I rolled over and found Peeta's sleeping frame. Disheveled blond hair, one arm around me and the other on his chest. His heavy breathing filled the air. I allowed my lips to twich up for a moment and pressed my lips on his. His breath caught in his throat and he returned the kiss. I broke apart and laid back down on the pillows and Peeta's blue eyes grew wide in laughter.

"Well good morning to you too!" he exclaimed, throwing his hand in the air. I allowed myself a laugh and buried my head in his shirt.

"You're cute when you sleep." I breathed, smiling again. Peeta rolled over to face me and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear.

"So are you." he smiled and kissed my forehead. I closed my eyes and tried to memorize the feeling of his lips on my skin.

"I'm serious, your hair gets all messy, and you go to sleep in the weirdest positions." his eyes darted back and forth and we both laughed for a moment.

Today was going to be a good day.

We both stayed in bed too long. Pointing out each other's features. I felt like a little girl asking why the leaves fell in the fall. Curious. Loving. Happy.

"Every time you get mad, you get this scowl, and I can't help but laugh." Peeta admitted. I crinkled my nose and scowled. Peeta laughed under his breath and shook his head.

"I swear, you have those eyes, and you can get away with anything with them." I told him. He smiled and ran his hand over my arm. His head swung over my to the side of my neck.

"Peeta-" I laughed. "Stop." I smiled again and chuckled under my breath. "That tickles." this only encouraged him. He hovered over me and his blue eyes meet my grey ones and I scowled.

"Stop with the eyes." I exhaled heavily.

He didn't quit until the laughter died and his lips fluttered on mine again. I felt weightless when his warmth met mine. Skin brushing skin when his hands found my waist. My hands gravitated on his chest. Our bodies moving as one. A tangle of limbs. I nearly jumped when his hand found the bare skin on my back. His hand skidded around the hem of my shirt. His lips left mine for a moment and his eyes found my grey ones. He gave me a glance of questioning.

I nodded.

Peeta and I drowned in each other's oceans. With only each other to revive us.

* * *

I smiled when I walked out of the shower to find Peeta's voice ringing through the building. His sad attempt at singing. I stopped at the mirror for a moment and didn't see Katniss Everdeen. I saw someone who actually wanted to live. Who was no longer her own person. A woman; not a girl.

I stopped at my stomach for a moment and gasped. A memory forming in my mind. That Saturday morning, only a few weeks ago. My mind scrambled from scenario to scenario. I'm not bringing children into this world. I'm not.

I remember home remedies that some of the seam women would use. My mother being the town healer, and as a child, I overheard things. I remind myself I should go to the woods and find wild carrots. A natural birth control. What Peeta doesn't know, won't hurt him. I exit my thoughts and compose myself. I can't be pregnant. It's not possible, I would have found out by now.

I quickly towel off and walk down the stairs that pass by the bedrooms and lead to the kitchen and living room. Curling up by the fire to dry my hair. Peeta as happy as as he could be. Sitting on the floor beside me, handing me a plate of cheese buns.

"I'm going to get fat." I groan and take two off the plate and enjoy Peeta's cooking.

"Can you make some cookies for the Merlin kids? I'm going to go over there later." I asked Peeta. Eddie had worked at the Bakery now. He's a good worker, but I still like to visit Vicci and the kids. Drop off game if I need too, and give the kids a treat.

Vicci is in her early 30's, but she has such a young spirit about her. She really likes to talk and we've bonded a little over the past few months.

"Sure." Peeta grinned.

I gave Peeta a goodbye and exited to the woods. I left up some snares for game I wanted to give to the Merlin's. And I needed to figure out where wild carrot grew. Fortunately, since it's an edible plant, my father included it in the plant book. So, I find it rather quickly and put a good amount in my bag. While eating one. Not the best thing I've ever tasted, but I have had Sae's wild dog, so my stomach can take just about anything.

I pull the game from the snares, a nice beaver and a rabbit. And exit the

peacefulness of the woods and travel to the edge of town where the Merlin's live. Cole is playing in the grass, Daisy is swinging on a rope that hangs from a tree, and Hugh is helping Vicci.

"Katniss!" Daisy runs up to me and gives me a hug. I return one and smile. I like Daisy, she reminds me a lot of myself, which I don't know of that's a good thing or not.

Cole tries to say my name, but doesn't succeed. I give his head a pat and kiss him on the cheek. He's a cute little kid.

Hugh is silent and just politely waves. Vicci gives me an embrace and I manage to give her the cookies to give the kids later, and the game.

Vicci invites me inside and offers me a cup of tea and I warm my hands by the fire.

"How have you been doing?" Vicci sits across the table from me and gives me a friendly smile. I relax a little.

"Fine. You?" I ask. Vicci pulls Cole into her lap and kisses his head and then looks back up at me.

"Good. The kids keep me busy." I smile and give Cole a funny face and I'm rewarded with a grin and giggle.

"Vicci, you Eddie and the kids, need to come have dinner with me and Peeta. It'll be nice." she starts to shake her head. "You've already done so much for us, Katniss." she says. "No, I insist. How about this Thursday night? Only a few days away, it'll be nice to have someone else beside Haymitch in my house." I laugh and Vicci nods in approval and accepts my offer of dinner.

I soon have to leave and I give the kids and Vicci a goodbye. I really do like them, they're nice people who enjoy company. And I'm glad to be able to help someone in need. Eddie and Peeta are becoming good friends, and I like being able to talk to Vicci.

I bundle up against the cold wind and make the trek back to Victor's Village. Haymitch is feeding his geese, and some town kids are playing in the streets.

Since no one really lives in the other houses that are in Victor's Village, families have moved into the vacant Victor's houses. It's heartwarming to look across the lawn and see kids playing. It doesn't feel so empty anymore. This is home.

I climb up the stairs and open the door and find Peeta painting. In his own world. I stopped to look at the painting he was working on.

The woods in winter. The snow pulling the branches down and tracks in the snow, leading to the woods.

"Wow, that's really good." I breathed, pulling off my gloves sitting them on the table. Standing by Peeta's side.

"Thanks," he smiled and I walked up the stairs to take a shower. The warm water on my skin made it easy to sort my thoughts and relax. Besides, I don't like going to bed without a shower after going to the woods.

I shed my clothing and stepped into the warm shower and tried to organize my thoughts. I caught a blush creeping onto my cheeks when I thought of that Saturday morning.

I stayed in the shower longer than I needed too. Thinking about the Merlin's, Peeta, the past. I towel off and hook my pearl around my neck and found Peeta already laying on the bed, fast asleep. I grinned and laid beside him. He stirred for a moment and then went back to sleep. I gave him a kiss on the cheek and tightened my arms around his waist.

Peeta always gets up before me, to go the bakery. So, when I got up and he was still in the kitchen, I was confused. Until I heard Haymitch's voice making conversation with Peeta.

I stayed on the stairs, out of sight.

"What's holding you back?" Haymitch didn't sound drunk. Which means he actually was making conversation. I heard Peeta sigh and a glass met the table.

"I don't know. I guess I'm being a coward." Peeta? A coward? I'm confused and I see Peeta rest his head in his hands. Something he does when he's confused or upset.

"You're not a coward. Just do it." Haymitch stands and slaps Peeta on the back and walks out of the door. Peeta sits there for a moment and grabs an apron off the hook and walks to the bakery. And I'm left standing here. Completely confused.

To clear my thoughts, I clean up. Dust the bookshelves, wash the dishes and clean paint that splattered on the floor. Only it doesn't help me clear my thoughts.

Peeta is not one to keep secrets from me. So why is he going to Haymitch and not me? And why did he look so confused and distraught? Why did he not come up and tell me he was leaving for the bakery? Questions consume my mind and I start to get a headache. I abandon trying to get that stupid paint off the floor and sit at the kitchen table. Sipping a cup of coffee. I'm not very fond of it, Peeta is, but it's warm, so I try to finish it.

I won't ask Peeta about it. There's no point. If he didn't want me to know, then he doesn't have to tell me. I gasp and remember I completely forgot about telling Peeta about the Merlin's coming over tomorrow.

I grab my jacket and meet the winter air. Snow sinking under my feet. The bakery isn't much like his family's. Peeta designed this one bigger and more open. There's more windows and it has a cheerful feeling about it. Peeta's paintings adorn the wall. Sunsets, Mellark bakery sign, and an old picture of his family. I polity wave to Eddie and ask where Peeta is, and I find him in the back room. He seems a little shocked to see me - I don't usually come to town, that much - but gives me a smile.

"Hey, I'm sorry, but I forgot to tell you that I invited the Merlin's over for dinner tomorrow." I tell him, he nods and goes back to his work. He seems fazed. I put my hand on his shoulder and he jumps a little.

"Peeta, are you okay?" He doesn't answer right away, but hesitates. "I'm fine, Katniss." I accept that he's fine and return home. Something still tugging at the back of my mind.

By the time I get back home and decide what to cook for dinner, Peeta is home. I go to embrace him, but he doesn't offer much affection. A quick hug and goes into his study. But this time, I follow.

"Don't do this again, Peeta." my voice is firm when my foot catches the door before he can close it. His eyes bore into mine and he releases the door. He sits in one of the chairs and exhales. Running his hands over his face.

"Please, talk to me." I crouch by his side.

"I can't. I want to wait until the time is right." he doesn't meet my gaze. "For what?" I ask.

"It's a surprise." he says. And I don't ask anymore questions. I leave him to finish his painting and I continue to cook the things I need too for dinner.

Even at night Peeta doesn't speak very much. He just holds me and whispers goodnight. At least he's still here holding me. And not down there in the study painting his nightmares.

I drown in thoughts before sleep graces me. Peeta isn't acting odd, it's a happy odd. Like someone who is really excited, but can't talk about it. I'm really not sure why he is acting like this. But I decide not to worry about it. So I place my hand on top of his and slowly drift to sleep.

When I wake up Peeta's warmth is absent, and I break away from the grasp of the bed and prepare for the day. Peeta will be back by the time the Merlin's arrive, and I have all day to do anything I need too. I braid my hair down my back and walk down stairs. The fire isn't dying out, evidence that Peeta has rekindled it.

It's not snowing today. I miss watching the snowflakes flutter down. I stop with childish thoughts of snowflakes and put the roast in the oven.

Really, I like to help people. And I want to see the Merlin's happy. It's not fair to see children suffer, and they're doing better. Eddie has the steady job at the bakery and Vicci helps at the school. It's also nice to be able to have other people in the house. It gives me something to do.

Soon enough the food is ready, and I've pretty much made the house presentable. Peeta comes through the door and gives me a kiss. And he's not acting as odd.

"Smells good." he says, I chuckle. "I've got a good teacher." he grins. And sits on the counter. I rebuke him. "Off the counter, table." I point, he obeys, and keeps a smile playing on his lips.

A knock graces the door and I hear Daisy talking up a storm and I answer with a smile, Peeta standing by my side.

"Hey!" I grin and Daisy comes in for a hug, which I gladly accept and give one back. The kids say hi to Peeta, which is Peeta returns with a grin. Cole and Peeta instantly like each other and I get a sharp pain in my chest, knowing I'll never be able to give him that. The chatter of people talking jolts me back to reality.

Dinner isn't silent. Cole asks constant questions, which Peeta answers with a smile and Vicci is constantly telling Daisy to be quiet. I allow myself a smile. She just enjoys to talk. Eddie and Peeta make conversation about the bakery and Vicci and I make conversation about cooking recipes.

I never thought I would be one of those women who spent their time cleaning and talking abut cooking recipes.

After everyone has finished eating, the kids sit on the floor and Peeta, Vicci, Eddie and I sit on the couches. I would have invited Haymitch, but I know for a fact he's passed out on the couch, snoring away.

Vicci sits by me on one of the couches and sits Cole in her lap.

"Do you and Peeta plan to have kids one day?" She smiles down at Cole and then up at me. "I don't think so." I give her a sad smile and she nods. "I know that it can be scary, but I wouldn't trade my kids for anything the world. They're my pride and joy." I smile and try to hide my painful expression. Peeta wants kids, I know. But I can't do it.

The night comes to an end, and we have to say our goodbyes. I promise the kids I'll come see them soon. I give Vicci a hug and Peeta gives Eddie a handshake. And we wave goodbye from the door.

"They're nice people." Peeta offers and starts to take our coats off the hooks.

"What are you doing?" I ask him and he hands me my coat. "Let's go for a walk." I follow him out the door hand in hand and we start to walk down the road that leads to town. Peeta halts and wraps his arms around me.

"I love you," he says, softly. "I love you too." I lay my head in the crook of his neck and breath in his familiar scent.

"Katniss, I know you never wanted this. But, listen to me." he drops down to the ground and I don't what to say or do.

"I've loved you since the first day I saw you. And when we were reaped I knew I was going to die protecting you. What we went though wasn't fair. None of it, but it brought us together, otherwise I probably would have never gotten the courage to even speak to you. But, I love you. And I won't to live the rest of my life with you. I want you to be mine." He places his hands in mine and his eyes find mine. Perfect blue eyes in the darkness. Blue like the sky on a summer day. I brace myself for his question that I know is coming.

"Katniss, will you be my wife?"

* * *

**A/N: **

**AAAAAAAHHHHHHH! **

**Thank you all for your precious reviews! You are adorable people! I love you! :)**

**Clarification: Katniss is not pregnant. I'm sticking to the 15 year wait. Which now, is only about 13 years away. GOOD GOD. That's far. **

**Also, I did shorten the name of this story. I thought it was needed. Leave me some reviews my dear ones! :)**

**-Joy **


	12. Chapter 12

_**Disclamier: I am not Suzanne Collins. Nor do I claim to be. All characters are property of Suzanne. I take no credit. No copyright infrigment intended.**_

* * *

_C'est la vie, C'est la mort_

_You and me,_

_Forevermore_

_Lets walk on the road that has no end_

_Steal away where only angels tread_

_Heaven or hell or somewhere in between_

_Cross your heart and take me with you please_

_Don't go_

_Please don't go_

_Don't go without me_

_C'est La Mort - The Civil Wars _

* * *

Everything disappears. Every chirp of a mockingjay that sits in the trees is no longer heard. All I can hear is my blood pumping in my ears and I don't even notice Peeta has moved until he is right above me.

But that's when I remember Boggs in my memory.

_"But, that's not going to happen under my watch, Solider Everdeen. I plan for you to have a long life. Because you earned it." _

We promised to live to make their deaths count. And I plan on doing so.

"Yes." I say, quietly and I curl my arms around his neck. He laughs and spins me around in his arms.

This is what I want. A clean slate. A new beginning. And Peeta and I can do that together. I love him, and getting married is a promise. A promise of life without the past. A joining of two people who love each other unconditionally. Two people who promise to live to make the death of their loved ones count. To be there when the other wakes up screaming from their nightmares. To pick them up when they can't pick themselves up. A hand to hold in the dead of night. To hold them when they're falling apart.

So when Peeta and I sit by the fire and toast the bread in the fire and make our promises, and he slips a band on my finger that matches his own. I know I didn't make a mistake in saying yes. I know that I made one of the best decisions of my life.

"I love you." he whispers. Seeing me twist the band around my finger. Admiring it. Small and gold. Watching the fire die out from our toasting.

"I love you." I reply.

We fell asleep by the hearth that night. And just like that, we were husband and wife. Something I swore would never happen to me. I forbided it. I was so naïve. So closed off and bitter.

* * *

When Haymitch realizes what the bands on our left hands mean, he chuckles, says, "I knew it." and stumbles out the door.

I don't call my mother. She can call me, when she's not busy. I do tell Vicci. She gives me a smile. Other than Haymitch and the Merlin's, no one knows we're married. And I like to keep it that way.

They've built a medical center in 12. Dr. Aureluis recommended I go. Because of the call he got from me.

_"Birth control, eh? Go to the medical center, ask for Dr. Stred, I worked with her and she should be able to help you." _

So I wait until Peeta is at the bakery. Winter is slowly passing. It's early March now. 5 months has passed since Peeta and I's toasting. It stopped snowing and it's starting to melt away. Spring is on it's way. I make my walk to the medical center and ask for Dr. Stred.

She's a dark-haired woman, with dark green eyes and a kind spirit. She tells me to sit down in one of the chairs. It's been a long time since I was in a hospital. It's scary. And I can't help cringe a little.

"So, from your records, we can tell that you've been in a hospital a fair share of times. Concussion and spline removal, correct?" I nod and she continues to jot down notes.

"I have talk to your doctor, Aurelius, correct?" she asks, she's very formal, but she's nice.

"Yes." I croak. I can't help but feel nervous. First, I feel like I'm going behind Peeta's back. Second, I hate hospitals.

"So, what brings you here?" I choke down my anxiety and try to answer. "I don't want children. I wanted to know if there's something for prevention." She gives me a long glance and I try to swallow the lump in my throat.

"Permanently?" She draws out every syllable. And I shake my head.

"Not permanently." I surprise myself with my answer. Maybe in the future. I doubt it, but I'm not going to label myself barren.

She continues to give me all of my options and we decide on something I can take every 3 months. I just have to come to the medical center and the dosage has to be given to me. She hands me a piece of paper with the date when I need to come back for my next dosage. I stuff it in my pocket, say thank you and stride out of the hospital.

I look down at my wrist and realize Peeta's shift at the bakery will be over soon and I walk home before he can notice I've left.

Peeta has hinted at kids. Never right out asked, but has hinted. But Peeta doesn't have to know about the dosage. I can't and won't see that disappointment and sadness flood his face.

I reach the house and sit on the porch steps. Watching the ants crawl through the cracks of the wood. The leaves are turning green again and I see Peeta in the distance. He's used to seeing me sit on the front porch. I don't like being cooped up all day in the house. I still hunt, when I know the Merlin's would enjoy some game.

The sound of Peeta's heavy tread reaches my ears and he sits beside me.

"How was your day?" he asks, rubbing my back. My arms rest on my knees and I straighten and lay my head on his shoulder.

"Fine." my voice breaks, and I'm suddenly afraid I'll have to tell Peeta about the dosage.

"What's wrong?" he lifts my face in his hands and my painted on smile disappears, and I can't hold on any longer.

I wedge the note Dr. Stred gave me out of my pocket and hand it to him. What it says branded in my mind.

_"Katniss Mellark._

_Next birth control dosage,_

_June 15th" _

His eyes dart from me and the paper. And I turn away from his gaze. I can't take the guilt that his emotions would bring to me.

"Katniss, why didn't you tell me first?" I look down at my shoes and try to avoid his gaze. But I feel his eyes boring into my skull.

"I couldn't." is the only thing I can get out.

"Why are you so stubborn about this?" He tries to sound nice, but it fails miserably.

"Because if the games come back I don't want to be responsible for the death of a child!" My voice rises and I try to calm down but I stomp off into the house and I hear the door open after I've closed it. Peeta's tread close behind.

"The games are not coming back, Katniss. It's illegal. We went to war for God's sake! Can you please just stop forbidding things before you have time to think about it?" I try to compose myself but, the fire that I thought had left is slowly rekindling.

"I am not doing it. I will not lose someone else! It is my decision!" I try to back pedal. I know what I said was false.

"Katniss, it's our decision. Not your's, not mine, ours." His voice softens and I try to stop gripping the counter top so hard.

"I'm sorry. But you have to understand that I can't do that." He nods. "All right. Not a word." he sits down at the table and exhales and I walk up the stairs alone.

* * *

"Happy Birthday," Peeta whispers. I groggily open my eyes and his blonde hair forms in my line of vision.

It is May 8th. And I am another year older.

"Mhmm" I roll over, begging for a few more minutes of sleep.

"Okay, sleep in." He kisses my head and I hear his prosthetic leg hit the floor. But I can't go back to sleep so I stumble out of bed and follow his lead out of the door.

Every kind of food I enjoy sits on the table.

"Peeta! Stop spoiling me!" he chuckles and I fix my plate and Peeta gets in a kiss before he sits down.

"I have today off, we can do anything we want." he gives me a smirk and hints at what he wants to spend his time doing.

"Hmm, we'll see." I play hard to get but he wraps his hands around my waist when I go to lay my plate into the sink. I turn around in his arms and his eyes grow big, and his lips hit mine. He lifts me up on the counter and kisses me again. I stop before we lose an article of clothing in the kitchen.

"Let's go upstairs." I say.

* * *

The celebration without the Games every year has become an annual party. Every summer. And every year, every living victor, and every one who helped somehow in the rebellion is invited, also. And I don't know why they don't hold it in the Capitol, instead of District 12. But I don't ask questions.

They let Peeta and I know a month in advance, they want us to speak. At first, I call Plutarch and rebuke him for this. Then Peeta calms me and explains that he'll do the talking and I'll just stand there. This reassured me a little.

3 months flew by, and summer has arrived in spring's place. Everything is green, and it's so hot, it's almost unbearable.

"You don't have to go." Peeta tries to convince me to cancel my dosage appointment. But, I have to go. There's nothing Peeta can do to convince about this matter.

"I'll be back in a hour." I release myself from his embrace, and block out my thoughts until I reach the medical center. Sitting in the waiting room, I wait until my name is called.

A pregnant woman sits in front of me, holding her stomach. She smiles at me and I divert my eyes back to my lap.

"Katniss Mellark?" I rise when my name is called and the nurse preps me. She notices I'm nervous and I admit I'm not too fond of hospitals. She lets out a small laugh.

Dr. Stred comes in, and I can finally breath again.

"So, another dosage?" Dr. Stred says. I nod and try to push Peeta's image out of my mind.

"Also, Katniss. I talked to Dr. Aurelius more. He told me to tell you, that you should call him if Peeta ever gets a bad flashback, or if you try for children. It's important you tell him." I nod and make note to call Doctor Aurelius more often.

Soon, thankfully, it's over and Dr. Stred hands me another note reading,

_"Katniss Mellark,_

_next birth control dosage,_

_September 17th." _

I place it in my pocket and I'm released to leave. I feel better once I'm outside. I breath in the June air and instantly feel like I can breath again.

Peeta sits where I left him and I stand behind him and wrap my arms around his neck. He smiles and I give him a peck on the cheek.

"When do you have to go back?" he asks. I pull out the note and lay it on the table. He reads it and nods.

When Peeta gets overwhelmed, or upset; he bakes. And I can tell it hurts him that for 3 months, there's no chance for children, because by the time I go out for a walk and come back, the kitchen is covered in flour. And multiple loaves of bread and cheese buns sit on the counter, cooling.

Peeta still thinks he can convince my otherwise about children.

I sigh, grab a cheese bun and plop down on the couch and watch Peeta sketch. Also something he does when he's upset.

"Please stop being upset about this." I plead and he looks up from his drawing.

"I'm trying too." he doesn't give conversation much thought, so I abandon conversation. And climb up the stairs. Take a shower and question myself if I'm doing the right thing. I can't come up with an answer.

* * *

Soon enough it's time for the annual celebration. If I had my way, I wouldn't go, but I have to.

Once again, I'm in the same predicament I was in last year. Staring at a closet of dresses and everything screams Cinna. I manage to push down any emotions and grab a dress that looks descent enough. It's dark purple and stops at my knees. It's been a long time since I wore something pretty.

Peeta looks handsome. Wearing his black suit and tie. His blonde hair swept off of his forehead.

He helps me latch my necklace around my neck and I catch sight of us in the mirror. I smile.

"What is it?" Peeta asks.

"Us. Who would have ever thought this is where we would be?" I grin and decide to leave me hair down this year.

Haymitch is actually sober and he offers me a smile when I reach the bottom of the stair case. I loop my arm around Peeta's and we walk to town.

The Justice Building looks about the same as it did last year. Paintings of Victors. Tributes to late Victors, or people who died in war. There's a tribute to Finnick that I find. It's a painting. He's holding his trident. And I can just hear now what he would be saying if he was here.

_"Eh, I look good."_ he would joke and grin. And everyone would roll their eyes. What I would do to have a conversation with him.

"He'a gotten so big!" Peeta says, while Annie hands Finnick Jr. to him.

Finnick Jr. is almost two years old. And he looks just like Finnick.

"How are you doing, Annie?" I ask while Peeta marvels at the baby.

"I'm doing fine. Me and Finn have a great time. Don't we?" she gives her son a smile and he giggles. Making everyone smile.

Peeta reluctantly hands Finn back over to Annie and she contuines to talk to other people.

Peeta shoots me a knowing glance and I simply shake my head.

I loop my arm around Peeta's again when Plutarch begins to speak. We wait patiently for our que to step on the platform. I can't stop the sweat that forms on my palms and I feel like a glass wall, ready to shatter any given second.

I drown out anything Plutarch says and all I can hear is my blood pumping and I don't realize it's time to speak until Peeta is tugging me along.

You think, by now I would have gotten used to being in front of large crowds. But, no. I still haven't.

Peeta goes on to talk about the restoration of the district. I just nod and play along. Peeta gives me a glance of questioning if I want to speak.

"Thank you. To everyone who has sacrificed for our country. You will never know the amount of respect we have for you." I swallow the lump that is still dead set on staying in my throat and follow Peeta off stage.

"See, it wasn't that bad." Peeta whispers. I give him a nod and walk over to the refreshments that sit on the table.

"Well, hey there." I turn around and find Johannah.

"Nice speech." she offers. I scoff and she scowls at me.

"How's 7?" I ask, sitting down at one of the decorated tables. Flowers rest on each table and waiters offer me wine. I decline. Johannah takes one though and drinks it in one gulp.

"Good, I guess. I got a- what's that?" She grabs my left hand and gasps.

"Seriously? You two ran off and got married?" she sighs heavily and I catch myself chuckling under my breath.

"Well, we didn't run. But yes." I say. She shakes her head.

"I always knew you loved him." she taps the side of her glass. And smiles. "You were just so stubborn, brainless. " I laugh because I know it's true.

Johannah promises to visit soon. And I find out that Gale is not even here. I guess he didn't find the need to come.

I weave through the crowd and find Peeta. It's getting late and he notices and we find Haymitch, who's drunk, and walk him home.

By the time we get home, change and crawl in bed, I want to tell him I'm sorry. I'm sorry for rebuking him about something he desires and I'm sorry about being a horrible wife. That I'm truly sorry for being a headstrong idiot who can't make commitments.

But when I whisper his name in the dead of night, he's already asleep and my moment of courage becomes non-existing

Peeta doesn't mention children again. Part of me is thankful. The other part of me curses myself everyday for being the reason he doesn't. And I know, I don't deserve Peeta. I never will.

* * *

**A/N: **

**Okay, let's explain some things here. **

1.) Marriage.

**I know, I know, a lot of you thought I was moving too fast. Or did not want kids or anything like that. But, they are already living together. Why should they not get married? What's the big deal in that? **

**I try my best to write to my fullest ability. And I can't write everything everyone wants me to. I'm sure that they are 500 post-Mockingjay fan fics that are a thousand times better than mine. But I write what I would want to read, also. And with the help of you reviewing and telling me what you think, this story is going very good. **

2.) Children. 

**With all of Katniss' "hunger" for Peeta, and Katniss still not wanting kids, I had to write the birth control in, otherwise, it would not have been a logical writing move. So, I wrote it in. And we all know Peeta doesn't like the idea of birth control; I brought that out. **

**I am not adding kids the next chapter. (Not for a few chapters, actually.) But I am time jumping. I will add twists to this story and I will make sure that it is worthy to be read. I don't like making crappy stories, that's why I rewrote this story. **

**I enjoy every single one of your reviews, comments and opinions. But I needed to bring this out. I am sorry if you don't like me bringing out the fights between Katniss and Peeta or the birth control or moving too "fast". I'm doing the best I can while juggling school and life. **

**Please stick with me, and if you have any questions or comments, send me a pm or put it in the reviews. I love you all and thank you for sticking with me. ;)**

**-Joy **


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: I am not Suzanne Collins, nor do I claim to be. All credit to the wonderful, Suzanne Collins.**

* * *

_5 years. _

5 years of the annual celebration. 5 years of birthdays. 7 years of nightmares. 5 years of fights. 7 years of Haymitch constantly drunk. 7 years of hunting. 5 years of Peeta and I holding each other when the nightmares hit. 5 years of prevention dosages.

7 years of mourning the loss of everyone I hold dear.

7 years ago, we returned to 12. 5 years

ago, Peeta asked me to marry him. And I stand in the woods now. 24 years old, in the fall wind. Hearing the leaves quietly crunch under my worn boots. I raise my bow as a young buck walks into my sights. I aim and my arrow flies into his heart. And he hits the ground with a thud. I exhale and grin. I haven't killed a deer in a long time. I walk over and start to decipher how I will get it home. I end up dragging it through the woods. And when I get it out of the woods, one of the men that works around town lends me a hand taking it home. I thank him and he lays the buck outside by the back door.

Haymitch catches sight of me hanging the deer by a rope on a nearby tree, preparing to skin it. He laughs so hard I almost go over to check on him.

Peeta still works at the bakery and Eddie has become a steady worker and will take over at the bakery anytime Peeta asks. Vicci and the kids have grown on me. And even over the course of 5 years we have become close friends. Daisy is 16 now. And I'm so grateful that she doesn't have to go through what I went through at 16.

Over the course of 5 years I've slowly noticed I'm not as harsh as I once was. Which, I guess is a good thing.

The deer hangs by his feet on the rope and I begin to take off the meat that we can eat and what I can give to Buttercup. He still comes around. I usually find him curled up on the front porch every morning. And Peeta will sit down on the front steps and give Buttercup some attention watching the sun rise above the horizon.

Peeta's not as young as he used to be. His scars are slowly starting to fade away but you can't miss the pink swirls that crawl up his neck and lead down his chest. His arms have grown larger over the time at the bakery. His hair has grown thicker and his smile has only grown larger. But there's a far away look in his eyes. A look that is waiting for something. Hoping. And maybe that applies to me also.

Peeta doesn't try to stop me from getting the prevention dosages anymore. He let's me go with a hug and a smile. He hasn't pushed the subject. And I constantly find myself hoping, that maybe he would speak up. Ask.

I finish skinning the buck and wrap the meat and put it in the freezer. It's enough to last Peeta and I through the fall. The Merlin's have gotten on their feet and refuse my help. I do visit though. And give cookies to the kids. Cole has really started looking up to Peeta and Hugh also. While, Daisy likes to speak to me.

I've grown accustom to the routine of our lives. Peeta bakes, I hunt, Haymitch drinks. The Merlin's visit, I visit them. Peeta holds me when I wake up from my night of terrors and I coax him out of his flashbacks. Dr. Stred knows more about me then I like, but she's a good doctor. Dr. Aurelius calls, and I answer now. We've learned to help Peeta through his flashbacks and Dr. Aurelius helps me understand, through Peeta's eyes, what's happening.

But lately, I've thought of the dark - haired little girl in my dream. Wondering if I told Peeta that I possibly wanted to bring that dream to reality, if he would agree. I know he would. But every time I even come across the thought of it, my stomach churns.

I quickly change my bloody clothes from the skinning of the buck and Peeta walks in by the time I'm back into the kitchen.

"Hey," His blue eyes dance and he homes in for an embrace. "How was your day?" I give him a grin and he sits down at one of the kitchen chairs.

"Tiring. With the Harvest festival coming up in a few months we have to bake double the amount we usually do." he exhales loudly, showing his fatigue.

"That's right. I forgot the Harvest Festival was coming up." People started the Harvest Festival back up about 2 years ago. Usually there's stands for people who want to sell anything, and the kids run around and play. It's something fun to look forward to in the chilly autumn weather.

I quickly cook up a meal and set down a plate for Peeta. I soon follow, myself. And I start to wonder if this would be the right time to ask. To tell him that he needs to convince me. He lost his entire family and I have the nerve to be selfish enough to hold back children for him.

He would constantly tell me, "Katniss, I don't want _just_ a baby, I want _your_ baby." I would try to be sympathetic, but it was impossible. The fear crawled into my chest and I felt like a coward.

Silence creeps into our previous conversation of the buck I shot. He's looking down at his plate when I speak up.

"Peeta," His blue eyes rise to my own. "should we?" he puts on a face of confusion and sets down his fork.

"should we, what?" he asks, my courage of asking is slowly dying. Peeta hasn't even spoke the word child in almost a year. He gave up hope I would ever break.

"Try for a baby." The water he was sipping gets trapped in his throat and he starts coughing, loudly. I try to swallow the lump in my throat and stop my palms from sweating.

"Katniss, but you didn't-"

"I know I didn't. But please say something before I change my mind."

He regains his composure and his blue eyes light up and his face breaks out into a grin.

"You know I want too, but not if you don't. If it's not what you want, then no." He's always thinking about me. And for once I wish he could think about himself.

"Maybe I want too." I quietly get up from the table and lay my dish in the sink. Turning on the water to wash them. Peeta walks over and helps.

"Are you sure?" I swallow my negative emotions and answer.

"Yes." I catch him smiling in the corner of my eye and he swings me around to kiss me full on the mouth.

"What about the prevention dosages?" he quietly asks. "This one doesn't wear off for another month." I return to the dishes and Peeta lingers behind me.

He sighs. "Okay, we'll wait."

"You actually want to have a baby?" I betray the dishes and turn around and wrap my arms around his frame.

"I want to have your baby."

* * *

"Katniss, it's Dr. Stred. Your appointment is tomorrow. What time should I pencil you in for?" I clear my throat and hold the reciever tighter in my grip.

"Cancel it." I say softly. I can practicality see Dr. Stred grin. And she obeys and says goodbye.

I tell Peeta that I canceled the appointment. He grins and give me a kiss. And I have to remember I'm doing this for him. This is his baby. He wants this.

But his kiss deepens a few nights later when I climb into bed after my shower. And I'm suddenly so afraid.

"Are you sure?" he whispers. I nod quickly and try to remember I'm doing this for him.

But it's not easy. My body has to get used to not using the birth control. And a month soars by without a sign of pregnancy. Every month I have to face Peeta and admit that I'm not pregnant. And I have to light fire to his dreams every time.

The way his features lower with disappointment make me want to curl up in a ball and disappear. This is something I've held back for 5 years, and when I do want it. It's out of my reach.

"We'll keep trying. It'll happen." Peeta reassures me, but I want to give him this so bad and I can't. Something I forbided, is now something I want more than anything.

It's the morning of the Harvast Festival and Peeta's already left to work on the baked goods for his stand.

I roll out of bed and brush through my hair. I walk into the bathroom to discover my cycle is normal and on time.

I don't bother to shower. I just crawl back in bed for a few minutes sleep. Knowing that I'll have to tell Peeta again, that I'm not pregnant. And I start to wonder if I'll ever have the privilege to bear his children.

My better judgement gets to me and I quickly betray my depression and take a shower. The warm water rolls over my skin and wakens me from my sleep. I towel off and clasp my pearl around my neck. I rub the surface of the white ball and smile at the thought of Peeta giving it to me. But my smile quickly fleets away.

When I close the front door, Haymitch sits on his steps. Bottle in hand.

"Are you going to the festival?" I yell across the distance between our houses. He shrugs, takes a gulp of liquor and stumbles inside. I guess he's not.

By the time I walk into town, everyone is laughing and kids are running around. And I find Peeta and Eddie selling their baked goods at their stand and I walk over. Peeta gives me a kiss over the barrier that separates us. And I simply shake my when his eyes ask the question his lips can't. He knows that today would be the day we would have known, if my math is correct. I turn away from his gaze.

Vicci comes up behind me and I give her a hug. And I quietly ask if we can go talk. She gives me a nod and we weave through the crowd until we are at a quiet place away from the crowd.

"What's up?" She keeps a smile playing on her lips.

"Did you and Eddie have trouble.. when you wanted kids?" I keep my gaze on my shoes and wait for her to speak.

"We didn't think we would ever have kids when we tried for Daisy." I meet her gaze and she offers me a sad smile.

"So, I guess you are planning for children?" She quips. I tilt my head and watch two squirrels scurry up a tree.

"We want too. Well, it took me long to agree." I say, quietly. She nods.

"Katniss, don't worry. The time will come." She smiles and pats my arm in a comforting manner. I nod.

* * *

Month after month passes. Peeta becomes discouraged. So do I. More then he will ever know. He tries to stay positive and say that'll it will happen. But I've given up. Even Dr. Stred says I'm healthy and I'll become pregnant at the right time. But I don't.

It's early spring now. The sun is setting and I sit on the front porch with Buttercup curled around my feet and Peeta by my side. His hand intertwined with mine and I find comfort and peace with the weight of his hands intertwined with my own.

"Do we keep trying?" He whispers, playing with the end of my braid.

"Let's wait. We'll wait for a few more years. It's obviously not going to happen any time soon." My heart drops into my stomach, facing the truth. And the sharp pain seeps into my chest again.

"Okay." Peeta whispers quietly. Kissing the top of my head. Tightening his grip on my hand.

Maybe in a few years. We'll be parents. I'll be able to give Peeta what he desires. And maybe I'll love the baby too. Hopefully it won't follow after me, and follow Peeta. Maybe in a few more years the dark - haired little girl in my dreams will come to life. And I'll be able to hold something Peeta and I created in my arms. But the fear still crawls into my head. What if I can't take care of it? What if the games are reinstated? What if my baby is killed? I shut off my thoughts and return to reality.

I watch the sun dip into the horizon.

"I'm sorry." I lean my head on Peeta's shoulder.

"For what?" he lets out a small chuckle.

"For not being able to give you what you want so badly." He moves to face me and cups my face in his hands.

"Don't say that. It's not your fault. We just have to wait for it. I love _you_, baby or no baby." I nod and he kisses my forehead and I lay my head on his chest. I allow a tear to run down my cheek in remembrance of our failed attempts to start a family. Closing my eyes to remember the sound of the dark- haired little girl's voice when she called me mama.

But instead of thinking happily about the dark - hair little girl, she ends up in my nightmares. Not in my good dreams. She's being killed by Snow and flames are burning her skin to ashes and she cries for my help but I can't move. I'm behind a wall like I was in the clock arena. Banging on the wall and shouting like I did when Peeta was taken from me after we were announced victors in our first games. Soon the flames surround her and I wake up with a scream and hot tears run down my cheeks.

Peeta's arms wrap around me and he whispers words of comfort. I try to stop but I can't. That was our little girl in that dream. She was killed by Snow and fire. I couldn't save her. What makes me think I could actually have a child and protect them? Fear is instilled in me. And the promise of never having children slowly begins to live in my heart again.

Peeta strokes my hair as the tears stain the pillows. And he holds me close to his body. Guarding me from the darkness. Protecting me from the nightmares.

Peeta and I both agree that now is not the time for children. Although, I know he's lying. He's such a good liar. But I push down my emotions and agree that we focus on the present, and starting a family will come later. If we do decide to have a family.

I make sure of this when I visit the medical center again for another prevention dosage.

It will just be Peeta and I. We are each other's family.

* * *

**A/N: I know, this one is not as long as most of my chapters are, and I apologize. But you guys better start rejoicing, because I ALMOST pulled a miscarriage on you. Then I decided to spare you the pain. (and me also.) We know that Katniss sucks at emotions and reading her own, that's why she's so iffy about kids. But don't worry! A few more chapters and we'll have us some Everlark children! :D I'm so excited to write that, you guys!**

**Review my little ones, tell me what you think and what you like and/or do not like. I love you all, and I'll see you in chapter 13. :) **

**Oh! And if you wanna hang out on tumblr, my url is: obsessedtribute dot tumblr dot com **

**-Joy **


	14. Chapter 14

Peeta Mellark's point of view.

* * *

Almost 11 years since our first games, and we are still plagued by the nightmares that lead to sleepless nights. I don't tell Katniss, but my nights are usually plagued with her death. I have seen Katniss die a thousand different times in my nightmares, since I was 16. My flashbacks are no better. They're far apart and rare, now. But they hit me full force when they do creep into my brain. I usually separate myself from Katniss when I sense them coming, but she doesn't listen. She waits and whispers things in my ear, calling me out of the darkness, no matter how many insults and hurtful things my deranged side spits at her. I don't understand why, for almost 7 years, she has stuck by my side in our marriage. Or our whole life, for that matter.

Maybe I do know. That's what Katniss does. She doesn't give up, no matter what the circumstances are. No matter how rough things get. One of the reasons I love her so much. Of course, there's more things that Katniss does that makes me fall in love with her even more everyday. The way she kisses me. Her laugh, that puts a grin on your face. Her dark hair, and the way she leaves it out of her braid, just for me. Because she knows I love her hair. Her constant fight for survival. Her fire that consumes my being. Everyday I wonder how this girl, who I've loved for almost 20 years, is actually mine. I guess you could say I'm head over heels for Katniss Mellark.

I also love how her first name sounds so well with my last name.

Of course, marriage hasn't been peachy all the time. I've found myself many times, sleeping at Haymitch's. Or Katniss running off to the woods because we would disagree on one small matter. Haymitch was always the one that cared enough to force us to understand each other. And the days that Katniss can't get out of bed because the sharp pain has returned. She explained it to me one time. She said that it was like someone was beating on her chest, waiting until she broke into a millions shards of glass. The memories of Prim, or Finnick would consume her and she couldn't will herself to do anything. Those are the days that I wish I could just pick her up like a doll, who's stitching has fallen loose, and I could just sew her up, and she would be better again. She would let me kiss her again. But I can't. All I can do is show her that I'm here and I want to be here. Try to get here to eat. Those are the days I can't leave her, in fear of her doing something rash out of depression.

We're so unstable. I've let this lie Katniss has told me for 7 years invade me, and I'm starting to believe we ARE too unstable to have a family. That maybe we wouldn't be good parents. That maybe it's best we couldn't conceive 2 years ago. We haven't tried for another child since then. Katniss hasn't said a word, neither have I. She never misses a prevention dosage. And it saddens me that nothing will come out of our intimacy. Even though I treasure our moments of intimacy, it's depressing knowing that nothing could come out of it. Not while she's on the prevention. But I've learned not to complain. Katniss is too headstrong.

She finally looks like herself. When I first saw her when she came back from the Capitol, she was skinny, sick and scared. She's more beautiful than she's ever been now. Her dark hair that flows over her shoulders and her dark olive skin. The feeling of her waist in my hands. Everyday I am beyond grateful to call Katniss, my wife.

"What are you thinking about?" Katniss' voice jolts me out of my thoughts and I find her gaze. I didn't realize I was sitting on the side of bed, still tying my shoes to go to the bakery, lost in thought.

"You. Us. A lot." She loops her arms around my neck and her lips linger at my ear.

"Well, you can tell me about it, OR you can call Eddie and say you can't come in today." I feel her grin on the back of my neck and her breath tickling my ear in a seductive manner, and she knows that she can easily convince me to do so.

"Katniss-"

"Come on, Peeta. Stay." Katniss whispers, my wall collapses and I surrender. She's too good. I hurriedly tell Eddie to take over for the day and I return to my wife.

"I love you," she says, panting in-between kisses.

"I love you too." I reply.

* * *

It's the afternoon when I'm busy at the bakery. Handing cookies to the district kids, greeting people by their names with a firm handshake and a grin. Explaining to the curious children about my scars when the point and ask. Saying that I got these scars when I went on a dangerous adventure. Adding excitement to a rather dull story.

It's when Eddie calls me around back and I give a nod to a customer I was helping. Eddie says it's Katniss and I answer.

"Katniss?"

"Peeta, can you come home?" She sounds upset and her voice is shaky.

"I'll be over there in a minute."

I tell Eddie it's urgent and I'll be back, and I find Katniss on the front porch steps.

"Katniss," she looks up from her gaze on the ground, and dives into my arms.

"He's dead." her voice breaks and she sobs into my shoulder. I lead her on the porch swing and sit her down.

"Who's dead?" I ask, affectionately rubbing her back.

"Buttercup." She breaks out into a sob and I just sit with her until she crys herself out. Buttercup was the only tie she had left to Prim. The cat was old. I'll miss him.

She draws back and leads me to where she found him. Curled up by the back door. He went in his sleep. Peaceful.

"Let's bury him in the meadow." she says quietly. I pick up his limp body and grab a shovel from the tool shed. Katniss lingers by the side of the house. Picking flowers. Picking the primroses I planted almost 9 years ago. They've lasted this whole time. She soon follows me to the meadow and I break the earth with the point of the shovel and I lay his limp body into the hole.

"I'll miss you." Katniss whispers, laying the primroses on the overturned dirt. "Say hey to Prim for me."

I loop my arm around her shoulder as we walk home. Later calling Eddie that I won't be coming back in. I spend the rest of my day pulling Katniss out of that black hole people call depression.

Her nightmares get considerably worse. She's constantly waking up in a sweat. Screaming with hot tears rolling down her cheeks. And she doesn't calm down when I try to pull her into an embrace. She fights and tries to flee. She mumbles words that I can't quite make out and even when she wakes up, I can't do anything in my power to get her out of bed. She just stares at the chair that sits by the window. Her eyes look frozen in time. And I start to wonder if she'll ever look at me again. She's gets so bad that I resort to calling Dr. Aurelius. I explain to him that her sister's cat died, ultimately tearing the only thing she had left of her, away. And her nightmares have only gotten worse.

"Peeta, the only thing you can do, is talk to her. Try whatever you can to pull her out of that trance. Tell her a story. Anything. Just make sure she knows you want her to come back."

I take his advice and grab the memory book off the shelf and run up the stairs. She stares at the ceiling. She doesn't respond when I call her name, or sit by her. She looks so broken and afraid. But this is almost routine. This is what happens when Katniss re-lives the past. She crawls in this dark hole that I can't even get her out of.

"You remember the memory book, Katniss?" I ask. She doesn't respond. She looks lost. Her eyes look cold and dead. And I want so bad to revive them. Bring life back to those marvelous grey orbs.

"Everything we cherish is in this book, Katniss." for the first time in weeks, she moves her head and her eyes rest on the book that sits in my hands.

"Show me." She croaks. Returning her gaze back to the cracks of the ceiling. Speaking for the first time in days.

I show her Prim, Boggs, Finnick, her father. She listens, she watches. She nods and grips my hand. Showing affection for the first time in weeks.

She slowly crawls out of her depression. She will never understand why she lost Prim. I will never understand it. Why did young children have to die in that war? Children. I will never understand what happened in that span of time. Or the motives of the Capitol or the rebels. Maybe no one will. Maybe it's something we shouldn't even try to understand. Forget it, like the Games. Try to stop the past from attacking us.

But that's impossible. No matter how hard you try, the faces of the people you have killed in the name of entertainment, never leave you. They haunt you until you are in your grave. I don't know if we'll ever be able to escape the horrors of the Capitol. Or the lives that were taken insanely too soon.

Katniss and I made a vow.

"We live to make their deaths count." she said that night. Curled up by the fire. Her head on my chest. My hands in her hair. I looked at her in awe. She never ceased to amaze me. How one person can lose so much, and still have the courage to live her life. This is why I love Katniss.

Maybe, just maybe, I can somehow explain to Katniss, that children are a symbol of innocence. Rebirth. And maybe, we can betray this idea that we're not fit parents.

So, a few weeks after she crawled out of her depression, she's outside skinning a rabbit. And I can hear every thud of the blade from the back door. Hunting is good for her. It calms her.

I come up behind her and offer help, she shrugs me off. "I got it." She says.

"Tell me one reason why we shouldn't try for a baby again?" She freezes for a moment and turns around to face me. I haven't mentioned a baby in almost 3 years.

"Disappointment of not conceiving." Okay, I'll give her that one. I honestly think if we tries again, we could conceive.

"Another one." I say. She pauses and I follow her into the house as she rids her hands of the rabbit gore.

"They'll be taken away from us." She says, barely audible. I nod.

"That's all I wanted to know."

I can understand. She lost so many and so much, she thinks she'll lose everything else. Katniss is a complex person. Luckily, I have her pretty much figured out. She over thinks things. She always thinks the worst case scenario. Unlike me. She fears that once we have a child, the Capitol will swoop down and take everything we hold dear.

Over my dead body.

But I don't try to push Katniss in the direction of children. Actually, I don't even speak of it. Even though I want it more than anything. To have a little girl who looks just like Katniss, running around. Being able to hold her in my arms. Katniss just needs to understand that it's not that bad of an idea. But convincing Katniss of things has always been hard.

* * *

"Not real, not real." I think.

I try to stop the shiny memories that invade my mind, but I can't. I just have to wait for them to pass. So many images of Katniss laughing at me and insulting me. Throwing her wedding band in disgust, run through my head and I don't even realize I'm holding the counter top so hard my knuckles have turned white.

"Not real." I whisper.

The moment I woke up, I knew today wasn't going to be good. I try to remember good things. Katniss sleeping or anything that would bring joy, but my deranged side only taints my good memories.

I thought Katniss was still asleep, but I hear her tread enter the bathroom and she wraps her long arms around my waist. And I catch sight of her in the mirror.

"Whatever you're seeing, it's not real, Peeta." she whispers and I try to hang on to reality. Gripping the marble counter top. The shiny memories flood my mind and I squeeze my eyes shut and relax when they pass. I exhale and wrap my arms around Katniss' frame.

"Thank you." I say quietly. Kissing the side of her face. She smiles. This is how we get through my flashbacks. We just wait for them to pass. It helps to have her there, waiting for me to come out. I can fight them knowing she's waiting on the other side.

I latch her necklace around her neck. She never goes a day without wearing the pearl. I remember that day. I wanted more than anything for her to protect herself. Leave me alone to fend for myself. Save herself. My plan didn't work as well as I thought it would. I'm just glad she's alive. She's here now.

Katniss goes hunting, I walk to the bakery. Following the routine of our lives. I stop to watch the kids line up and walk through the doors of school. Wondering if we'll ever be walking a child to school. I exit my thoughts, exhale and unlock the bakery. One day. We'll be watching one of our own lining up for school. If it's the last thing I ever do.

* * *

A/N: I know, short chapter. I'm sorry, but it's hard to write their married years. Because I don't want to out right time jump fifteen years into the future. I'm probably going to do one more chapter of ten years of marriage and then we go ahead and continue to 15 years.

Thank you for all of your reviews! I'm almost to 70 reviews, and I really cannot believe it! I love you all, so please drop a review and I'll give you a virtual hug! Love you all!

-Joy


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Yes, I skipped on ahead 8 years. I know, I know. But I was so anxious to start with this! So, enjoy! And don't forget to review! :)**

**P.S. Sorry about the lack of songs, I didn't have time to look for one, and I wanted to post chapters as soon as possible. :)**

**Sorry for any typos or grammar mistakes. **

**(Thank you all for 73 reviews! I got almost 20 emails last night for reviews/follows and it makes my day! I love you all!)**

**-Joy **

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Peeta didn't let up. For almost a year now, he has spoken of children more than he ever has. We've been married for 15 years, and the guilt is starting to churn my stomach, thinking of Peeta with kids.

"Katniss, we're in our thirty's. I don't want to miss the chance for kids" He would plead. I ignored his comments. I told myself it wouldn't happen. And I know it will not. It can't.

The dark - haired little girl never really visited my nightmares. I would dream of the meadow, and she would be sitting in the meadow. Humming while she picked dandelions. I was thankful she wasn't being killed in my sleep anymore.

Peeta doesn't know of the little girl in my dreams. Well, I told him once. A long time ago when I first saw her in my dreams, but he's probably forgotten by now. She's my little secret. Something good that I see when I sleep.

But the thing is, I'm scared. What if I can't love a baby enough? I don't want to be like my mother. But Peeta would be a great parent. But we've been through so much, and Peeta's wanted to give up his life for my own, too many times to count, why should I hold this back from him any longer? We're both not getting any younger. Maybe I could do it.

I remember something Haymitch told me a few years ago.

"Katniss, after all the crap all of us have gone through, and you still don't want some happiness? Try to put yourself in Peeta's shoes. Why don't you try to make him happy?" I tucked his words in the back of my mind. Lately they've been tugging at me for a while. Haymitch is right. So I try to put myself in Peeta's shoes. See the world from his eyes.

"Tell me why you want a baby." I whisper before he falls asleep. My head lies on his shoulder and he instantly snaps his neck and finds my gaze. His eyes full of surprise and shock.

"A little you. Someone I can teach to bake, or you can teach to hunt. Someone I can read to or tell them why leaves fall in autumn. Someone that calls us mommy and daddy. Someone that we made and can hold in our arms. A symbol that we're no longer afraid of life." He stares at the ceiling and I take in his words. Focusing on his smile when he said "mommy and daddy". I start hearing the little girl in my dream call me mama, and I nuzzle my head into the crook of Peeta's neck.

"Okay," I whisper. This is my approval. This is my promise that life goes on. That I can give Peeta something for all the things he has given me. He's my anchor to the world and he wants something that I can give him. Really, I'm terrified and I try to keep my negative emotions at bay. I try to be happy, for Peeta. This is what he wants.

"Wait, did you just say yes?" He shifts and I raise my head.

"Yes." His white teeth shine in the darkness and he kisses my forehead.

"Katniss, I love you so much." he whispers.

"I love you." I whisper, settling my head back onto his chest. Hearing his steady heartbeat. Trying to quiet the roaring waves inside of me. I refuse to hold this from him. Maybe, I could be a good parent.

The idea that this is for Peeta, he will take care of this baby, is the only thing I can tell myself to convince myself this is the right thing to do. I decide to completely stop thinking about myself. Stop thinking about how scared I am, and how happy Peeta will be. This will be his baby. He will love it enough for both of us.

I don't go to the medical center that month.

Peeta sits where he does every morning. Drinking his coffee and going over things he and Eddie have planned to do at the bakery. The morning sun peeking over the clouds into the windows. I tread to the table and sit across from him. He gives me a smile.

"Good morning," I pour myself a cup of the black liquid, I need something to warm me up in these early winter mornings.

"Morning," I reply. Coming to sit by him.

"I missed my appointment." I say, quietly. Staring at the black liquid. Second guessing why I have even considered doing this. His hand quietly glides into mine and I intertwine my fingers into his.

"So, you can get pregnant?" I find his gaze and nod.

"I don't know all the medical terms, but I think so." I say. He grins and I offer a smile in return. He gives me a kiss and says he has to head to the bakery. He puts on his coat and I watch him slide out of the door. And I'm left at an empty kitchen table. The coffee turning lukewarm.

I eventually decide to trek out to the woods. The first snow is falling. I wave hello to neighbors and pass through the meadow until I reach the tree line of the woods. Forgetting I'm even in District 12. I can't climb any trees because of the snow, and I can't afford to break any bones. Peeta would never allow me in the woods again if I ended up falling off a tree branch. So I quietly just sit on the ground. Escaping in my thoughts. Reminding myself not to stay out here so long.

I remember when Peeta made up that lie about me being pregnant in the Quarter Quell. How did he even come up with that? Probably plotted in secret with Haymitch. But part of me wonders if he said that because he wanted it so bad. I should be able to answer that myself. I have known Peeta for almost 19 years. I should know how his mind works, what he does when he's upset, or his motives. I am his wife. But what he did throughout the time in the Games, still baffles me. And I don't know where the lies begin or end. Such desperate times, such dire situations. The threat of death looming over both of our heads, at that time. The chance the our families would be killed.

And our families were killed.

I don't know if I can call my mother, family. I haven't talked to her since my birthday. She calls once a year, on May 8th. Never calls for another year. I know that District 12 is too painful for her, but I'm still her daughter, she should treat me like I am. Maybe she thinks Prim's death is my fault. Maybe it is.

"No, Katniss, It's not your fault." I hear Peeta say, in my memory. I told him that same thing one day. He replied with that sentence and a kiss.

I guess it really is time.

Time for me to stop wallowing in my self-absorbed state. Give something of myself, make Peeta happy. He's so selfless, and always thinks of others. And never complains. While I've pushed his requests away. Stating that I couldn't do it. I was too afraid.

I'm tired of being afraid.

So when he comes home that night, I don't complain when he tugs on my braid lightly and kisses my neck, in fact I lead us up the stairs myself. Finally realizing, that after all these years, a baby is not only a miracle, but a promise. A slap in the face to the past. That we can be happy again. We can smile, we can laugh and we can raise children.

I push down my terrifying thoughts of pregnancy and kiss my husband as his hands trail down to my waist. And my knees hit the edge of the mattress.

* * *

We tried diligently for 3 months. And I nearly cried when my cycle was late by almost 5 days. But, I didn't show emotion. I tried to keep my thoughts at bay. I didn't tell Peeta. Even though I was itching too, I tried to seem like myself. Even though half of me was ecstatic to see his face and the other half of me was cursing myself for getting into this predicament. I waited until I couldn't anymore. I made my way to the medical center while Peeta was gone and asked for Dr. Stred. Stating it was important.

While sitting in that waiting room, fear crawled all over me and goosebumps ran over my body. Pregnancy became so real when I walked into this hospital. And I nervously rubbed my hand down my arm. Trying to remember that technique Dr. Aurelius taught me when I got confused or scared. Something that helped me hang on to reality.

_My name is Katniss Mellark. I am married to Peeta Mellark. And I'm possibly pregnant._

Before I could finish my thoughts my name was being called and I swallowed the lump in my throat and followed the nurse inside the white-walled room. Dr. Stred soon walking in.

"Katniss, you never scheduled another appointment, are you here for a pre-"

"No." I cut her off.

"Well, what's going on?" I think she recognizes my anxiety and she comes over and crouches in front of me. She's been my doctor for almost 14 years now. She's almost like family.

"I, um. I think I'm possibly pregnant." Her face lights up in a smile and she pats my hand.

"Well, let's find out." She chirps. I follow her instructions and obey what she tells me to do. Sitting on the side of the bed, I nervously wait for her to return with the test results. The answer that will change our lives forever. And I feel like the walls are caving in on me and I jump when I hear the door handle shake open. The churning in my stomach taking over my body.

Dr. Stred stands in front of me and it takes all I have to look her in the eye. She looks down at her paper once more and returns my gaze.

"Congratulations, Katniss. You're expecting. About 6 weeks along." Everything else she's says turns into a jumble of words and I have to grip the frame of the bed to stop the pain in my chest from taking over.

"Katniss?" Dr. Stred's hand comes in contact with my shoulder and I steady myself.

"I know this is a lot to take in, but there's nothing to worry about. You're a healthy woman. And your baby will be healthy." I nod at her words and meet her gaze.

"How do you know?" I croak and she glances at me before ordering a nurse to come in.

"Well, I'll show you." she says and the nurse pulls in a machine with monitors and buttons and she tells me to lie down. I obey and watch as Dr. Stred puts a gel type liquid on my stomach, later apologizing for the lack of heat.

She presses buttons and a gray screen comes alive and I follow her finger as she points at certain things.

"This little black blob, here. This is your baby. Now, it's too early to really see him or her, but there is your baby. Healthy and alive."

My baby. There's actually a human being inside of me. There's life inside of me, someone I have to protect. Apart of Peeta and I. And I suddenly wish he was here. Seeing his child on this screen. And seeing our baby, makes the fear go away for a little while. And I hold back the tears that threaten to fall. This is my gift to Peeta, and he finally gets to have it.

She wipes the gel off of my stomach and tells me she wants to see me again in 3 weeks and she tells me about everything I need to know, what's normal and what's not. She hands me a black and white picture of the baby.

"For Peeta." she smiles and I clutch the picture in my hand. Imagining his smile and laugh when I finally get to tell him, after 15 years, he's going to be a father. I can barely stop the grin that creeps onto my face.

"Thank you." I tell Dr. Stred and she nods.

"Hey, it's my job." she replies. I smile and slide the picture into my back pocket. Treating it like a priceless piece of art that could easily be broken.

Today, I'll be happy. Today I will not let fear control me. I will not allow the pain and depression creep up on me, I will be a good mother. I won't leave my child like my mother left me. I will protect this baby. I won't be afraid. Or at least try not to be.

I fidget and pace the floor until I hear the door knob jumble and Peeta sheds his layers and I quickly slide the picture into my pocket.

"Hey," he grins and kisses me. "how was your day?" he asks, sitting down on the couch beside me.

"Fine." I say, holding in my joy. Knowing I'm about to burst at the seams. I was never good at keeping exciting secrets. Especially secrets that are this important. This is his baby, after all.

But I want to tell him in a special way. That's how he would do it. So I wait until we've eaten dinner and Peeta kindles the fire and we settle by the hearth. The heat radiating from the flames and the rhythm of Peeta's breathing.

Instead of trying to think of words, I just pull out the picture.

"This is what you've wanted for fifteen years, and I'm sorry I couldn't give it to you sooner." I say, and he grasps the picture between his fingers.

I point to the little black spot on the picture. "That's our baby. I'm pregnant."

His eyes dance and he hugs me until I feel like I can't breathe. He let's out a soft laugh and returns to the picture.

"A baby." he whispers, like he's convincing himself. Wondering if it's even real. His hand crawls under my shirt and he lays his hand on the plain of my stomach. I pull my hand on top of his and he stares in awe at the ultrasound picture.

"How far along are you?" he asks.

"About 6 weeks." I say. The warmth of his hand leaves my stomach and I miss its warmth. But he wraps his arm around my side.

"Katniss, a baby." I think he's in shock.

"Yes, Peeta." I place my hands on his face. "a baby." I say. Placing a kiss on his lips. The warmth of his hand returns to my stomach as we fall asleep. And he's happy, oh so happy. He falls asleep with a smile playing on his lips. And I can't stop the one that plays on mine as I lay my hand on top of the his, where our child rests. Completely safe from the world. And I start to wonder why I never wanted this.


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer: All characters and credit goes to the author of The Hunger Games trilogy, Suzanne Collins. I take no credit. No copyright infringement intended.**

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He carried me to bed when we fell asleep by the hearth. I was barely awake, but I felt the kiss he left on my forehead and the springs in the bed shifting as he laid down beside me. Burying his face in my hair and his thumb brushing over the bare skin of my stomach.

He was always there. He was there, holding my hair when I was retching into the toilet. He was there when I seconded guessed pregnancy. Reassuring everything would be okay; that he was there, and nothing was going to make him go away. He was there when I was too sick to get out of bed.

He was there when I needed him to be, and that's what was important.

"It's just morning sickness." I would croak, when he made a mountain out of a mole hill over my state.

"I know, but I feel like I should stay." he said. Brushing the hair off my forehead.

"Go to work, I'll be fine." I said, rolling over to find a comfortable position - which felt impossible - and proving I was not going anywhere. He got so protective. And he hovered. I know he was just trying to be there and be apart of my pregnancy, but if he could just let up, I wouldn't feel so trapped.

"Peeta, I have almost 7 more months with this, you'll get to see me all fat and swollen in no time." I said. He finally agreed and left for work, reluctantly. Of course I spent my days in bed. Which I hated, but I didn't allow myself outside. The howling of the wind kept me alert as I laid in bed, thinking of the lengths I would go to, protecting this baby. There was nothing I could do to stop the images of a dark haired little girl on a hot summer day, standing in the middle of town, with her name swimming in pieces of paper, that held her fate. I cringed and begged for the thoughts to cease in my mind.

And I told Peeta my fears, otherwise I would have gone insane. And I swallowed the words he told me.

"We didn't go to war for nothing. The games are _not_ coming back. I swear." I nodded and he held me. Comforting me the only way he could.

But, there were still days when I felt like I made a terrible mistake. Knowing that I couldn't be a mother. I wouldn't love this baby enough. I'm so broken and unstable and what if I can't raise a child? But those were the days I had to empty my thoughts and tell myself it's too late to think like that. Peeta will love this baby with every fiber in his being. And, I won't fade into darkness and leave my husband and child. That was one promise I was determined to keep. No matter what.

It'll stay in my memory forever when we made the second trip to Dr. Stred, Peeta's eyes as he saw his own on the screen. He marveled at the monitor and I smiled. Knowing I felt the same way when I saw the baby for the first time. It's almost insane how I'm here right now. Married, and pregnant. I gripped his hand as he gave me a grin.

Almost 3 months along in this pregnancy. It's early February now. Dr. Stred told me that day that the baby is due in August. Right at the tail end of summer. But that also means that I will be attending the annual celebration, pregnant. And that's one thing I don't want. I don't want my baby plastered all over Panem. I don't want the Capitol knowing I'm even married, especially pregnant. But I try not to worry about it.

"I don't want this baby born here. I want to have a home birth. No hospitals." I told Dr. Stred. Of course, she disagreed. I didn't listen. Hospitals sent shivers down my spine as it is.

"No hospitals." I repeated. Peeta gave Dr. Stred a glance.

"You can't win a fight with Katniss." He chuckled and I grinned, Dr. Stred soon chuckling also.

"All right, have it your way." She excused us and we walked home. Relishing in the joy of becoming parents. And for now, I refused the pain and the hurt. I focused on Peeta's happiness, and that got me through.

Dr. Stred gave us another ultrasound picture and Peeta took it to work. Showing everyone at the bakery his baby. I let out a soft laugh when he excitedly put the picture in his wallet. The baby wasn't even big enough to decipher it's features. It was only about the size of your fist, but he was so proud.

The Merlin's still live in 12, they moved closer to town about two years ago. Considering Daisy has a family of her own now, and Hugh went to work in a different district, and Cole started working for Peeta and his dad, Eddie.

Vicci comes down to visit, and I've asked Peeta to tell Eddie to not tell Vicci. I wanted to tell her on my own.

Luckily, my body hasn't started to give evidence that I am pregnant. Which Dr. Stred stated was normal for someone with my body.

Vicci is much older than when I first met her, almost 16 years ago. Which feels like a lifetime. Her hair has grown longer and she's much more wiser.

"Katniss, good morning." I open up the door farther and she walks in. Shaking the snow off of her coat as she sheds it.

"Morning." I smile and fix her a cup of coffee as she settles in one of the chairs. Vicci visits once a week. Or more if she's lonely. Greasy Sae still comes by, but she's getting older and doesn't enjoy getting out in the cold. I told her about the baby a few weeks ago. She laughed and gave me a sloppy kiss and hug. Her eyes shined and I started to wonder what it was about babies that made someone so happy. And I have yet to tell Haymitch. I don't really know how to put that out there.

"How's Daisy and her family?" I ask, handing her a cup of the black liquid.

"Fine, I saw her last week. Her husband got a new job and all that." Vicci and Daisy never got along that well. Daisy was a daddy's girl, and Vicci didn't approve of the person Daisy married. I don't ask questions.

"Well, I don't know if Peeta has told you. Because, I swear, he's told the whole district. But, we're pregnant." She gasps for a moment and then her lips break into a grin and she playfully slaps my knee.

"Girl, it's about time." She laughs and I let out a soft laugh also.

"How far?" She sets down her cup on the wooden table.

"Let's see, about 13 weeks." I say. She smiles and starts to go on about things she went through with her pregnancies and home remedies for morning sickness and things of that nature.

She states she has to leave and she gives me a hug.

"Don't worry. I know some good midwives." I relax, knowing that I needed one anyway because I didn't want to give birth at the medical center. I nod and she steps out into the snow again. And I begin to wonder if I should call my mother. Vicci has almost became a mother to me. But I dial her number anyway. It rings a few times, but her voice comes into the receiver.

"It's Katniss." I say, slowly. Wondering if my mother would even care. I stop with my omnipresent thoughts and continue with the conversation.

"Katniss," she tastes my name on her tongue and I tell her about the pregnancy. I think she almost cried. She sounded like she was happy, but she never said that she would come down. I didn't ask.

When I hang up the phone and wheel around, Haymitch sits at my kitchen table. Legs crossed, giving me a grin that only says, mischief.

"For a drunkard, you're pretty quiet." I quip, reaching under the sink for the stash of liquor I keep around, just for him.

"You were pretty quiet about that," He points at my abdomen and I scoff.

"You ease dropped on my phone call, really?" I sit the bottle in front of him. And he snaps the seal and takes a gulp. I have to hold my breath unless I want to retch on his shoes.

"Well, I came looking for this," he holds up the liquor bottle. "and I didn't want to interrupt." he says. I scowl and stack clean dishes into cabinets, trying to get away from the wretched smell of that alcohol.

"So, a kid, eh? I never thought he would be able to convince you." he slurs his words and I shake my head.

"People change, Haymitch." I state, wiping down a ceramic plate.

"Yeah, they sure do." I hear his feet walk out of the room and the door knob click open.

"Thanks for the liquor, oh and congrats, sweetheart." I scoff and roll my eyes. The door shuts and I watch him stumble into his house, next door.

Peeta comes in later in the afternoon and I tell him that I called my mother and Haymitch found out and he laughs at what Haymitch said. He offers to cook dinner, but he only starts peeling potatoes when I can't take the sight or smell of food and I have to clamp my hand over my mouth and rush to the bathroom. Peeta calling my name.

"Well, this is fun!" Sarcasm rolls off my tongue as I return downstairs. Avoiding the kitchen, and sitting in one of the chairs.

"I can't even eat," I whisper to myself. Peeta's hand crawls over my shoulder.

"Katniss, you're pregnant, what did you expect?" he smiles and I scowl. My hand pressed to my temple.

"I don't know." My words come out in a puff of air and Peeta exhales.

I'm eventually able to stomach food, some what. And I tell Peeta I'm going to bed, and I tread upstairs, entering the bathroom to take a shower. The water calms me and it helps me clear my mind. I start shedding my clothing and I stop to look the mirror. I sigh when I see my breasts have gotten considerably larger than normal. My hands trail down to my stomach. The baby consumes my mind, and I move where my side faces the mirror, seeing what I thought I did.

"Peeta!" I call down until I hear his loud tread up the stairs and the door knob jiggle open.

"What's wrong?" He sounds so concerned and I laugh because, once again, he's being so protective.

"Look," I place his hand on the plain of my abdomen. "It's growing."

The baby's growing enough that I'm starting to show. Peeta reacts like I knew he would. He grins and kisses me. I return one and nudge him toward the shower. He sheds his clothing and turns the shower on. And we both laugh until our sides hurt when he almost slips on the side of the tub.

The water runs over our bodies and lean heavily into Peeta's chest. Missing our good moments. I've been feeling so sick that I barely let him kiss me anymore. And I finally feel normal for the first time in weeks. Which Dr. Stred said morning sickness would wear off, but I doubt I'll wake up feeling like this. Probably heaving by the time I touch the ground. So I kiss Peeta while I'm not retching into a toilet.

Long story short, we make it out of the shower just in time to go to bed. And I braid my wet hair down my back.

But instead of waking up to the sunlight, I wake up in the middle of the night. Peeta's warmth absent and the bathroom door ajar with light making a line through the bedroom. And I swear I heard a loud crash. I tiptoe into the bathroom and find ruffled blonde hair crouched by the counter.

Peeta's head snaps up and his brow is furrowed and pain darts across his blue eyes.

"Peeta," I whisper, running my fingers over his arms that are tense around his chest.

"I'm scared." he whimpers, "I'll hurt you and the baby." his hand reaches out for my stomach but he takes it back.

"Peeta, you won't. I swear, we call Dr. Aurelius, if it would make you feel better." I slide my hand over his and bring it to my stomach. "You won't." I whisper.

"Katniss, I don't trust myself." he admits. His hands start to shake and I know he's starting to fade. He's slowly turning into the deranged Capitol mutt. He yelps out in pain, he's trying so incredibly hard to hang on.

"Go," he yelps. "Go, please." I nod and close the door. Leaving him alone, fighting the battles that rage inside of him. And I sit by the door. Hearing him scream in anger. And I can't stop the tears that fall. My hand drifts to my stomach and I wait for Peeta to come out. To take me in his arms again. Hug me and say it will be okay. But instead the sun shines through the windows and I've been sitting by this wall for the past 2 hours, gripping my stomach. Peeta's yells stopped a long time ago and I crawl over to the bathroom door and I find Peeta staring at the wall. I search his face for any deranged mutt, but I find only my Peeta. And his arms stretch out for mine, and I don't hesitate crawling into them.

"I'm sorry." He whispers. His voice sounds steady now.

"It's okay. You're back now." I say, quietly. My forehead pressed to his collarbone.

"Please don't fade away and get scared you'll hurt me and the baby." I stifle a sob. "I can't have this baby without you." My voice breaks and sobs wrack my body. His hands crawl up my back and I rest my body against his chest.

"I'm not, I promise." he pulls me tighter to his chest and kisses the top of my head.

I do call Dr. Aurelius when Peeta leaves for the bakery. I'm not just afraid for me, or the baby. But Peeta. He's the one suffering. And when he suffers, it effects all of us. Dr. Aurelius condemns me for not speaking to him about the baby sooner. And I end up having to tell him about when we failed trying for a baby 10 years ago.

"Katniss, we cannot fathom what Peeta went through. Katniss, they fed him lies. They told him that you were the enemy. His mind still has a hard time understanding that you're not. And when his flashbacks do come, they hurt him more and more. We helped him with understanding that you are not a mutt, but what we didn't get a chance to do is, explain to him that you won't kill his child."

"Kill his child? It's my child, too. Why would I kill my child?" My voice is more aggressive than I know is respectful.

"I _know_ that, but his deranged side doesn't _know_ that." Dr. Aurelius states. I exhale, knowing it's true.

"What can I do?" I ask.

"There's not much. Let him know, somehow, that you love the child, also. And when he does have flashbacks, you get away from him. He's not in control of himself. Wait until you know he is okay."

I know what he's telling me is the right thing to do and I tuck it away in my mind when I need to use his advice.

"Thank you, Dr. Aurelius."

"No problem. Please, go against your better judgement, and call me if you have problems with Peeta's flashbacks."

I laugh, agree and hang up.

Peeta comes back from the bakery. He's eyes are not clouded and he smiles and gives me a kiss while taking off his jacket. Settling down beside me. I decide not to tell him about the call with Dr. Aurelius. Instead I listen to him as he goes on about work. And I replay Dr. Aurelius' words in my head.

_"We cannot fathom what Peeta went through._"

I wrap my arms around his waist.

"Peeta, when you were in the Capitol... did they lie to you and say I would kill your child?" He pauses for a second and his lips turn into a straight line. He slumps back into the couch and his eyes turn cold. Like he's reliving those sickening moments.

"They fed me that lie about you being pregnant for Panem. Made me believe something I came up with myself, and since you were the enemy, I believed you would kill my family, friends, me and that fake baby." Inside, I'm fuming with hatred at the Capitol. For doing this to us. Doing this to him. This is something we have to live with for the rest of our lives, and it effects everyone.

"But, Katniss, I'm better now. There are just some moments when it all comes back, and I can't control it." He laces his fingers back with mine and I nod. But I will always hate the Capitol. All the promises I broke, were at the hands of the Capitol. I promised to save Prim's life. I promised nothing would happen to Peeta, and look where I stand now. A dead sister and a man who will never, fully be the same.

Peeta lays my head in his lap, sensing I'm troubled. And he starts tugging at my hair. Making knots.

"Dr. Stred wants to know if we want to find out the gender of the baby at the next appointment, or be surprised when the baby's born." I mutter, trying to stop the buckling in my chest and my pounding thoughts of our previous conversation. And all I can think is, I wish I could have personally made Snow suffer. Only given him the mercy of death when he begged and pleaded. Paid him back in revenge.

But I disregard those thoughts and try to breathe, and loosen my fists.

"What do you want?" He asks me, I almost forgot the question I offered him.

"Oh, I don't know. I don't know if I could take the suspense of waiting, but it would be a nice surprise to find out when the baby's born." I hate referring to the baby "it". It's so informal and cold.

Peeta smiles and says, "Let's wait until she's born." I find his blue eyes.

"How do you know it's a she?"

"Well, it might not be. You don't want a little girl?" his hand glides to my stomach and I let out a soft laugh.

"I guess, but I was hoping for a hunting partner, and if we have a little girl, you'll spoil her like crazy." He grins and we intertwine our fingers on top of my now noticeable stomach. Still hide-able with the right clothing. But there.

"True. I guess will find out in August." he says. I nod and Peeta goes on about the nursery and how he wants to paint it and names and clothes, it makes my head spin. He gets up and cooks dinner, I eat what I can keep down and we climb up to bed. The same position we sleep in every night. Peeta always lays on the left side of the bed and he always burys his face in my hair and lays his arm under my neck, and now, his hand always flutters to my stomach - he can barely keep his hands off of it -.

But I wake up a little later to Peeta's head closer to my stomach. And he whispering.

"I'm going to be a daddy. I still can't get that through my head. You'll probably be as stubborn as your mama. Hopefully you'll have her iron will. I can't wait to meet you." I snap my eyes shut before he notices I'm awake and I try to stop the smile that creeps onto my face.

It'll be okay. We'll be okay.

* * *

A/N: Yay for fluffy, filler chapters! Whew! I loved writing this chapter, it just came so easy. And I can't believe I'm only 21 reviews away from 100. You guys, this is so insane! Y'all are so special! Don't forget to review and tell me how much you just love Peeta, because, crap, I know I do.

Reviews = love.

Sorry for any typos or grammar errors.

-Joy


	17. Chapter 17

_We were so young, we had just begun_

_A song we knew, but had never sung_

_It burned like fire inside our lungs_

_And life was just happening (nothing lasts, nothing lasts forever)_

_And life was just happening (nothing lasts, nothing lasts forever)_

_I wouldn't trade it for anything...my souvenirs_

_Souvenirs - Switchfoot_

* * *

Haymitch stopped drinking.

When I made it to 5 months in the pregnancy, clearly showing, he quit. I don't know why, I don't know how. He just stopped. He went through withdrawal though. And I felt so terrible I almost took over the stash of liquor I kept for him. But Peeta stopped me and poured the alcohol down the kitchen sink.

"Let him get through it." Peeta told me. I cringed and fidgeted while I saw Haymitch suffer. I can't stand people in pain. It rips me apart from every angle. But deep down, I knew why Haymitch was putting himself through this horrid nightmare. He loved us. He wanted to see our baby grow up. He wanted to be there. And that was something I admired in Haymitch. He didn't want to spend his days drunk. He wanted to spend them with a family. We had became a family. Tied together by pain and angst. But, a family.

So, I didn't sneak him liquor. I invited him over for dinner. My symptoms of morning sickness, behind me. Now I was waking Peeta up at 2 in the morning to fix me pancakes. He never complained. Although, I tried to hide my cravings. But Haymitch enjoyed coming over and teasing me about the baby. Or making crude comments directed toward Peeta. Which he shrug off with a chuckle, me with a scowl.

Vicci never did find a midwife. Not many had came back to District 12. So, I had to agree to Dr. Stred coming in August to deliver the baby. Which was okay, really.

Peeta and I went over names.

"Do you want to stick with the plant tradition?" Peeta asked. I brought my hand over my stomach and sighed. My father named me after a root, Prim after a flower.

"Yes." My father started that tradition, and I want to keep it. Something of my father in this baby. In remembrance of my father.

We never really decided on a name. We went over so many, ones we liked if it was a boy, ones we liked if it was a girl. But I kept the book around, going over the names in the book that my mother sent down. Some sticking in my head.

"Lily?" I stared down at my swollen stomach and smiled. Waiting for a response from a child that laid in my body.

"No." I quipped. Not liking that name either. I felt like I would only think of a name until I saw the baby's face.

"Maybe, Dylan?" I found myself talking to the baby, too much. But I did it anyway. It was calming.

"No, not that." I whispered, again. Peeta would chuckle when he found me spitting out baby names, for no reason. I was so confused by names I told myself if it was boy, we would just name him after Peeta. He didn't like that. Peeta wanted the baby to be an individual. I agreed.

I allowed myself to trek out to the woods in early spring. The feeling of my bow back in my grip felt renewing and I practiced on rabbits that came into my path. The residents of 12 soon found out I was pregnant. Not really something I could hide, anymore. Soon, my pictures were all over the Capitol news and I hurriedly shut the television off when they came on. The fear of this child living under the title of being a Victor's kid. And I knew that we would never be left alone. But instead of fear, I let my maternal side take over and swear instead of being afraid of giving birth, I would protect this baby with all I have.

Peeta kept the nursery a secret. He wouldn't allow me to look in, and the room sat right across from ours. A few doors down is where Prim's room was. I rarely visit that room. I did, sometime ago, but I ended up crying and Peeta had to carry me out. He always comes out of the nursery covered in paint. The hues of beautiful blues and yellows swirl on his palms. And I can't get the paint out of his shirts for anything.

I told Peeta that he didn't have to work on the nursery so soon. It's only April. But he insisted. Claiming he wanted to go ahead and finish it before the baby got here. And he went through catalogs, picking out cribs and rocking chairs. And we would argue on what crib we liked, soon agreeing on a solid white one with vines sketched into the headboard.

And Peeta sits here now, determined not to look at directions. Trying to figure out how to do it himself. Pieces of white wood lay on the bedroom floor. And I sit in the middle of the bed, watching him struggle with screws and nails. Trying incredibly hard not to laugh.

"Look at the directions!" I demand, throwing the pieces of paper by his side. Laughing afterwards at his state.

"I got it, Katniss." His words come out in a puff of air, dropping a screw on the wooden floor. I hold back a chuckle as he goes searching for the forgotten screw. Soon picking it up and handing it him. He's so determined to finish this crib.

"You know, it's almost May... and you know what that means." Peeta mused. Attaching the headboard to the frame of the crib. I shook my head. I was turning 34 this year. I exhaled loudly and shuffled back toward the bed. Gripping my back from the pain that a 6 month pregnancy caused.

"Don't make a big deal out of it." I grunted and settled back into my position on the bed. My feet curled under me, watching Peeta struggle with the crib.

"It's your birthday." He says, playing on his words. I let my hand drift to my stomach instead of responding. Something I found myself doing a lot of lately. And that's when I inhale sharply and Peeta grows concerned. I shake my head as he ask questions. Gripping my stomach as the sensation flutters.

"Katniss-"

"I th- I think the baby's moving." I stutter. Trying to steady myself. Dr. Stred said this would happen. The baby would start kicking and I would sense the movements of the baby shifting. Or the vibration when the baby got hiccups. This is the first time the baby has moved. Peeta keeps talking but I zone out his voice and focus on the baby. Fluttering in my body. Soft, slow movements that make this baby so real. She's - or he. We decided to wait - moving around and finding her way. And I can stop the fear that scratches at the surface of my heart. Eating away at me. Slowly filling my mind with doubt. The movements fade away. I come to my senses and Peeta sits beside me on the edge of the mattress. His hand beside mine on my swollen stomach.

"She was moving." I repeat. Dazed from experiencing that for the first time. So beautiful yet so horrifying. The baby is real. And I didn't realize until now. Well, I knew it was always real, but it's so alive now. Dr. Stred said the baby can move their legs now. Move their fingers.

Peeta's crystal blue eyes dance and he leaves a kiss across my cheek. I know he had to have felt the baby move too. I'm sure the baby kicked. I curl into the bed and climb under the covers.

"I love you and the baby." he whispers before returning to the crib that lays on the floor. And I curl my arms around my swollen stomach, hoping the baby would flutter one more time. The feeling becoming something I look forward to. The evidence that I _am_ a mother.

Peeta eventually pieces together the crib and I crawl out from under the safety of the covers. Steadying myself as I rise to my feet. And I walk over to where the crib stands by the wall. I run my fingers over the barrier and smile as I turn the cotton stuffed cartoon bugs that hang from the headboard of the crib. Peeta's hand snakes around my back and I sigh.

"We can do this." I convince myself. Peeta rubs his hand across my shoulder-blade.

"Yes." he confirms and I lean into his side as we stare into the empty crib, that in only 3 months will have a little baby inside of it that Peeta and I can call our own.

Peeta pastes all the ultra sound pictures into the memory book. With the week under the picture. And he writes entries that I don't peek at until he's finished. And what he wrote brings a smile to my features. After every picture, he wrote what Dr. Stred told us. For example, at 13 weeks the baby is the size of your fist, and so on. And he leaves space for the upcoming ultrasound pictures. And I find such peace in knowing that even though we probably won't be the best parents, we will love this child. And we will take care of this child.

Peeta's flashbacks are rare and minor. In the beginning months they were frightful, but now his mind has registered and accepted the fact I'm pregnant and his deranged side does not make visits very often. Although, he does go still for a moment, but returns soon. My nightmares are rampant and sickening. Constant worlds visit my dreams. Worlds where blonde children are drug away by mutts. Or a dark-haired little girl stands in the middle of an empty town. With round bowls surrounding her. Or Peeta dying in front of my eyes. Or echos from the past. The sound of the bong in our first games and the voice of Cato calling Clove's name after she had already died. And the image of blood poisoning creeping up Peeta's leg. Those dreams never cease. And I'm fortunate enough to have at least some nights where Peeta's warmth chase the darkness away and I sleep in peace, knowing Peeta is asleep by my side.

Haymitch makes visits regularly. His state of health has improved. His eyes don't twitch as much and he walks, not stumbles. As far as I know, he hasn't had liquor since April. And I whisper a thank you as he walks to his house one night. Both of us knowing my thankfulness was not about coming to dinner. But for caring enough to stop drinking for my child. He nods and walks into the distance. And I find Peeta by the sink. His sleeves rolled up to his elbows. I scoot to his side and brush his chin.

"You're not growing a beard." I said, nonchalantly. He laughed and nudged my hip with his own.

"I thought it looked good." Truthfully, he skips shaving just to irritate me. It does make him look older, but I'm not used to seeing Peeta with facial hair.

"Shave." I say, seriously. He chuckles under his breath as his hands dive into the dishwater. Handing me dishes to dry. I stack them in the cabinets and Peeta nudges on my arm and we walk up the stairs. Facing the nightmares that we are too used to.

Soon my birthday came and Peeta cooked me breakfast and I received the annual call from my mother. She asked about the baby, I told her about the baby moving a few weeks ago. She responded like any doctor would. Telling me the facts about pregnancy and so on.

"Mom, would you come down if I asked you?" I felt like a fool, but I missed my mother. I hadn't seen her in so long and I was anxious to see her again. I wanted her to meet her grandchild. I wanted to be a whole again. The line was silent for a period of time.

"You know I want to, Katniss. But, your father, and Prim-"

"Mom, please." My voice wavered and I pushed back my stupid hormones.

"I'll be there in late August." was her reply, I let her go and she muttered a goodbye.

Spring turned into summer and the primroses bloomed. I would trek outside and pick a few to place in a vase on the table. The scent filling the room.

It's early July now. With the annual celebration only a few weeks away. And I stand here now, 8 months pregnant. The baby moves more than ever. Fluttering almost every day. And I spend most of my days praying the baby would sleep more often. Peeta delights when the baby kicks. He never gets tired of it. And I don't either. The baby started responding to our voices, especially Peeta's.

I'm not looking forward to the annual celebration. Thankfully, Peeta and I are not speaking this year, but I know everyone knows about the baby, thanks to the Capitol. Probably even Gale. And I'm afraid to know what he thinks. I swore I would never have children. But maybe Gale already has a family of his own. I'm just hoping he's moved on.

I spend most of my days in Peeta's clothing. Frankly, because none of mine fit anymore. So, it's difficult to even look nice for the celebration. Cinna didn't design dresses to fit a pregnant woman. But I eventually find a dress made of stretchy material and slide it on. Thankfully, I'm not extremely large. If I rememberer correctly my mother carried Prim larger than I am carrying.

Peeta stretches his arms as he puts on his suit jacket and I pin up my hair. Trying to be somewhat enjoyable to be around, because I would rather not have to go to this party or whatever they want to call it. I just want to crawl in bed until my due date and have my body back. But I know once this baby is here, there will be no sleep. And if Peeta thinks this is going to be a pleasant walk, then he's going to get a rude awakening.

Peeta offers his arm and I loop my hand around it and we make our way to town. Haymitch following close behind. He's sober, and I doubt he'll be spending time at the bar, this year.

"Let's not stay for a long time, okay? I don't feel too well." I tell Peeta as the gravel under our feet soon becomes concrete.

"Okay. We'll stay for an hour, then we'll go home, I promise." He says, opening the door to the Justice Building.

People greet us, congratulate us, hug us, and even touch my swollen stomach. Something I've only allowed Peeta to do. I awkwardly nod and try to get away from their grasp.

"Well, well, look at you." I wheel around to find Johannah. I try to give her a hug as best as I can with a swollen stomach.

"I saw it on the news, but I didn't think it was true."

"It's true." I say, gripping the middle of my back as Peeta comes up behind me.

"Didn't think he would be able to convince you." She says, meeting Peeta's gaze.

"Persistence pays off." He chuckles and I scowl. Shaking my head while Johannah laughs softly. She pats my hand and congratulates me. I nod.

Gale hasn't came in 3 years. And I doubted he would come this year. But I spot his face in the crowd and he catches my sight and strides over. I nervously rub my stomach, out of habit.

"Katniss," Gale's face doesn't show shock, or emotion. He plays a grin and I raise my hand to interrupt.

"I know. The Mockingjay is pregnant. Oh my God!" I say, sarcastically. Gale lets out a laugh and settles beside me.

"I guess we've all moved on." His lips turn into a straight line and I nod. Gale goes on to talk about his job. And that he met someone in 2 that he really loves. And I search his eyes and I know that he does love her, by the way he talks about her. I grin, so thankful he's let me go. Something I was begging for him to do. He gives me a kiss in the cheek and strides off. Peeta comes up behind me and rubs a tense spot on my shoulder and I sigh.

"Ready?" he asks. I nod and find relief that I can go home and sleep. Haymitch is still sober, and I smile when he walks home with us. And we make it home and climb up to bed. And I sleep peacefully, that is until I wake up to a sharp pain shooting down my spine.

* * *

A/N: I know! I'm horrible! I hate cliffhangers too! Thank you all for your sweet reviews! I'm so excited to hit 100. And I'm almost there. All thanks to you! Now, since I originally wrote this as a prequel, and then decided to rewrite it. So, I'm going to do different names for the kids. So, I'll see you in chapter 18! :D

-Joy


	18. Chapter 18

_In this life, you're the one place I call home _

_In this life, you're the feeling I belong _

_In this life, you're the flower and the thorn _

_You're everything that's fair in love and war_

_I'm coming down like a gunshot_

_In all these battles I've fought_

_You're the mark I'm aiming for_

_I was yours_

_Head Over Heels (In This Life) - Switchfoot_

* * *

"Peeta, wake up." The pain strangles me and my breath catches in my throat. Fear enters my mind like a whirl wind. Making me feel like I'm in an earthquake. Struggling to breath, struggling to move. This baby is early. I'm not ready. I thought I would have more time to think. The baby is coming, now. And there's nothing I can do to stop it. My mind plays circles and I press my forehead to Peeta's shoulder. My hand flys down to hold my stomach and I wince as Peeta groggily moves, making the springs shift.

"What's wrong?" Peeta's hand subconsciously goes to my chin and brings my gaze to his.

"The baby." I whisper, inhaling sharply. The weight of bricks falls on my chest and I can only think of the screams I heard when my mother aided the childbirth of many Seam women. The screams that sent shivers down your spine. And gooseflesh runs up my arms. Thinking of the pain that child birth causes, and I whimper as another whirlwind of pain hits my body full force.

"Call, Dr. Stred." I plead. The feeling of a thousand rocks, hitting me from every angle as the pain intensifies. Peeta finally realizes what's happening and darts for the door. I hear his tread fly down the stairs and I exhale as the pain passes, for at least a few minutes. I rip the sheets off of my body and find that the sheets are soaked. Evidence that my water broke. My breathing quickens as I rise off the mattress. The pain is over bearing, I have to walk. Being in two Hunger Games, I should have been used to pain. Used to fear. But, my emotions get the best of me while I pace back and forth. Gripping the middle of my back as Peeta comes through the door again.

"Dr. Stred is on her way," I ignore his words and he comes to my side.

"I can't do this, Peeta. Once this baby is born, I have no control over what happens to him. I can't do this." My words come out on one long puff of air and I waver as fear, pain, and sobs attack my body from every angle. And I suddenly feel, weak. Peeta cups my jaw in his hand and brushes my fallen tears off my cheek.

"Look at me, Katniss." I meet his gaze and his blue eyes stare back at mine. I inhale and try to learn how to breath.

"This baby will not grow up like we did. This baby will have two loving parents, and always enough to eat. This baby will not have to fear the day they turn 12. This baby will not be reaped and slaughtered in an arena. I swear to you, Katniss." He voice softens and he rubs my stomach. I lean against his chest and he whispers comforting words in my ear. I nod and anchor my faith in his words. This baby will not be reaped.

"We get to meet our baby today." Peeta whispers. I meet his gaze and he leaves a kiss on my lips. A soft, comforting kiss.

Peeta walks me back to the bed and I sit against the headboard. Squeezing my eyes shut as a wave of pain shoots through me. I hear a faint knock downstairs and Peeta goes to answer the door. Dr. Stred following Peeta up the stairs.

"Well, I guess this baby wants to come see the world a little early." She gives me a grin, as she orders Peeta to bring her warm water and towels.

"Is the baby too early?" I ask, knowing that if a baby is too early, it's not a good sign.

"No, only by a few weeks." She reassured me and I exhale, relief flooding my mind. Peeta comes back with a large bowl and towels and hands them to Dr. Stred. He comes to my side. And I grip his hand in my own. Dr. Stred bends my legs.

"Nope, we won't be seeing this baby too soon. You're only a few centimeters dilated. How far are your contractions apart?" I try to answer but the pain hits me full force and I grit my teeth.

"About 20 minutes." Peeta answers.

"Katniss, the contractions are only going to get worse. There's not much you can do." Dr. Stred says, and I nod. Breathing again as the pain ceases.

"When they get closer and worse, Peeta can sit behind you. It'll help you feel more secure." She says.

I walk, I lay down, I sit. Nothing stops the pain and I know that every contraction is one step closer to the birth of this baby. Morning creeps into the windows and sweat rolls down my forehead. I told Peeta he could at least get some sleep. I've been in labor for six hours. He refused. Dr. Stred would pace around the room with me. Asking questions and offering help like any good doctor, and I was so thankful for her.

I yelp out in pain as another contraction hits me full force and grit my teeth and hang on to my stomach.

"I think it's time." I mutter and pace over to the edge of the bed. Peeta comes to my side and I sigh. I swing my legs back on the bed and Peeta climbs behind me. My back leaning against his chest. He offers both of his hands and I take them in my grasp. Hanging on as if I would stop breathing without him here. And frankly, I would.

Dr. Stred exhales in approval. "Alright, it's time to have a baby." I nod my head quickly and prepare for the pain I know is coming. My grip on Peeta's hands tighten, and I know I'm gripping too hard, but he doesn't complain. I need him here. I need to know he's here.

"Katniss, push when I tell you to, okay?" Dr. Stred's voice jolts me from the pain for a moment.

"Okay," I respond.

"You can do this." Peeta whispers, rubbing his hand over my forearm. I nod and inhale sharply.

"Okay, Katniss. Push for me." I inhale and grip Peeta's hands. Setting my jaw and gritting my teeth as I exert as much strength as I can muster up. The feeling of being ripped in two, eating me alive. I exhale and my head falls to Peeta's collarbone. Gathering my breath.

"Good girl, one more time." I nod and raise my head. Once again, pushing myself to the limit and beyond it. Envisioning Peeta holding his child and I exhale. Resting my back into Peeta's chest. The feeling of Peeta's lips hitting the back of my head.

"Katniss, one more time. I can see the baby's head. Come on, you can do this." Dr. Stred says, patting my knee. Peeta whispers, "One more time." I grit my teeth, once again and push with every ounce of strength I have in my body.

Until I hear the wailing of my baby.

"It's a girl."

We have a baby girl.

"Come here, Peeta." Dr. Stred says. Peeta crawls out from behind me and I slump into the headboard. My head throbbing. My whole body throbbing.

Peeta returns to my side. Our baby in his arms.

"We have a baby girl, Katniss." His voice breaks as he towers over me, staring at our baby. He leans down and places her in my arms.

A dark-haired baby rests in my arms. And I, for once, welcome the tears of joy that come. The fear fades in a moments time, holding her in my arms. I look up at Peeta for a moment, who's crouched beside the bed. Grinning from ear to ear. In this moment, we are not Victors. We are parents.

"She has your nose." Peeta says, softly. I smile and return my gaze to our baby girl. Peeta's finger grazes across her hand and her eyes flutter open for one moment. Crystal clear blue eyes. Blue eyes that I know only belong to one person. She's inherited Peeta's eyes.

"She has your eyes." I whisper. She grasps Peeta's index finger and I'm translated back to the past for one moment. That moment when Prim was born. And my father was the happiest man alive. And I remember Prim reaching out for my father's finger.

I find Peeta's gaze and he stares in adoration at our daughter.

"What's her name?" I completely forgot Dr. Stred is standing at the end of the bed. I was so engrossed in my baby. My beautiful, dark - haired, blue eyed, baby girl. I look up at Peeta and we share a glance.

I already decided I didn't want to name our child after anyone in the past. It brought the burden of the past on my children, and I didn't want that.

"Camellia Mellark." Camellia is a plant that's known for it's beautiful flowers. One of my mother's favorites. Peeta's bright eyes meet mine and he repeats her name on his lips.

"I like that." he says, rubbing her small cheek with his finger.

Dr. Stred excuses herself and I thank her. She comments on how beautiful Camellia is and leaves. Peeta climbs on the bed beside us and I unbutton my shirt to let Camellia nurse.

"I can't believe I never wanted this." I whisper, letting my hand drift to Peeta's hand. And he sighs.

"I know." He says, softly. His eyes close for a second and I know he's tired.

"Go to sleep, Peeta." I say. He refuses but I insist and he allows his eyelids to drop. His breathing evening out, evidence he's fallen asleep. And I stay awake for a moment. My finger grazing Camellia's fine dark hair. Her hands drop to her chest and she soon finds sleep also.

And I sit here, with my husband asleep by my side, and my daughter asleep in my arms. The feeling of being whole finally sinking in. The love I feel for her already, is unconditional. And I start to wonder how I lived without her for so long. I don't want to let her go. I want to live in this precious moment forever. I want to keep her this small forever.

No matter what it took to get us here, we're here.

Alive.

Parents.

And I've spent the last hour holding Camellia in my arms. Listening to the rise and fall of Peeta and Camellia's chest. The silence that is not eerie, but comforting. The warmth of her body resting on my chest. And the noon sunshine dancing through the windows.

Camellia stirs and her blue eyes flutter open. And I only fall more in love with her. I used to detest the people who had the nerve to have children, now I understand why.

"You're my sign, aren't you?" I whisper. Rubbing her infant small fingers. "That things can be good again." I say, my gaze watching the meadow out my window. The dandelions dancing in the summer breeze. The fluffy white clouds that sit in the unmistakable blue sky. The bees flying past the window pane.

For every death, there is a birth. A promise that we're not doomed. That no matter how hard times get and how rough the path is, love will see us through. And love saw Peeta and I through. And love brought us here. Love gave us a baby. No one can steal someone's love. It's impossible. That's one thing and it might be the only thing no one can still from you. They tried to steal Peeta's love away, but we're here now, aren't we?

Peeta stirs also. His arms outstretched to hold his little girl. I place her in his arms and he smiles again. The light in his eyes, making everything worth it. The pain and the fear, worth it.

I stretch my arms out and yawn. Leaving Peeta to watch Camellia while I shower. Stripping the bed while he moves to the chair.

"Katniss, you should rest." Peeta suggested.

"I'm fine." I told him. I placed the sheets in a pile and headed to the bathroom. Letting the warm water take away the ache I developed. Ridding my body of the scent of sweat. And feeling renewed when I stepped out. The happiness of returning to my daughter, hitting me full force.

Peeta stood when I stepped out of the bathroom. Camellia in his arms. Wearing the face only a new father knows.

"I want to show you the nursery." Peeta says, placing Camellia back in my arms. Her big blue eyes staring up at me. Even in the womb she responded to Peeta's voice and I think spending time in her father's arms gives her much joy.

I had forgotten about the secret Peeta kept. The painting of the nursery. And he cracks open the door that sits across from ours and I'm floored with what lies on the walls.

Sky blue and bright yellow cascade on the walls. Swirls of yellow meeting blue and swirls of blue meeting yellow. A rocking chair that sits by the window and another crib for when Camellia gets older. A changing table and stuffed animals. And on the wall that sits across from the rocking chair, Peeta painted a sunset. The sun blending into green grass. A mixture of our two favorite colors.

"It's beautiful." I say, running my hand over the arm rest of the rocking chair.

"I thought you would like it."

The slam of the front door brings me to my senses and I follow Peeta down the stairs. Haymitch stands in the living room.

"Shouldn't you be on bed rest?" Haymitch spits.

"I'm not dying, Haymitch." I say, harshly.

"With all that screaming, someone would think you were." I scowl at him and sit down on the couch. Handing Camellia to Peeta.

"Okay, you give birth to an eight pound baby and get back to me." Peeta laughs for a second and I flash him a glance and he stops. Haymitch scoffs.

"You want to hold her?" Peeta asks. Haymitch shifts awkwardly and nods.

"She's a baby, not a time bomb, Haymitch." I say, crossing my arms over my chest.

"God, you're irritable today." I give up on any good conversation and say I'm going to bed. Frankly, I'm just tired. And Haymitch doesn't help my mood. I know he just doesn't know any other way to converse. Teasing people is his way of getting a kick out of people.

Climbing in bed and sleeping peacefully since last night is a blessing. And I'm able to get a few hours of sleep. Until I feel a hand shake my shoulder and Peeta calls me out of my sleep.

"Katniss, I hate waking you. I really do. But, she's hungry, and only you can take care of that." I raise my back to meet the headboard and take Camellia in my arms.

No one said this would be easy. But I wouldn't trade being a mother for anything.

* * *

A/N: PLEASE READ.

I want to thank everyone who is loyal to this story, it warms my heart to see your admiration for this story.

Also, the next chapter will be in Peeta's point of view, but it will be this chapter, in his view. I thought something so important in their lives should be told in his perspective, also.

Don't forget that reviews make me happy! :D

P.S. I loved writing this chapter. Probably one of my favorites.

P.P.S. I will take care of Haymitch's crudeness in the next chapter, thanks to a conversation with Peeta.

-Joy


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: **So, I had some writing issues with this. So, bear with me. It's kind of hard to write in Peeta's POV. But, next chapter will be back in Katniss' and hopefully that will be up soon. I have to write it, first. School is really stressing me out. Anyway, enjoy! And don't forget reviews = love. :D

-Joy

_Sorry for any typos or grammar mistakes._

* * *

_Peeta Mellark'a POV of Chapter 18._

* * *

Nudging, murmuring, and movements wake me up. Katniss is in pain, I can tell by her facial expressions and how she's holding her stomach. I instantly register that she's having contractions and dart for the door when she tells me so.

"Dr. Stred?" I ask, somewhat panicky.

"Peeta? What's wrong?" She says.

"I hate waking you in the middle of the night, but I think Katniss is in labor." I pace across the floor with the phone to my ear. Cringing as I hear Katniss yelp out in pain.

"Oh! I'll be right over," the line goes dead and I betray the phone and find Katniss pacing back and forth.

"Dr. Stred is on her way." I say, placing my palms on Katniss' shoulders, trying to calm her.

"I can't do this, Peeta. Once this baby is born I have no control over what happens to him. I can't do this." Her eyes speak volumes of fear. Eyes that have seen so much pain and death and she's afraid of becoming a mother.

"Look at me, Katniss." I say, cupping her jaw in my hand and wiping away her new fallen tears. "This baby will not grow up like we did. This baby will have two loving parents, and always enough to eat. This baby will not have to fear the day they turn 12. This baby will not be reaped and slaughtered in an arena. I swear to you, Katniss." I bring her head to my chest and rub her back. I would love to be able to say I haven't been stalled by the same fears, but I have. Ever since Katniss told me she was pregnant, I have. The fear that I would fail Katniss and our baby, got to me. And the fear that I would watch my son or daughter killed in an arena, ate away at me. But, I know that it will never happen. It can't.

"We get to meet our baby today." I whisper, helping Katniss back to the bed. She trys to crack a smile, but I know she's in pain.

Dr. Stred comes to the door and I answer it. She talks to Katniss while I get warm water and towels. Soon handing them to Dr. Stred and coming back to Katniss' side.

Today I become something I've wanted to become for years. Today I get to meet our child. I still remember when Katniss came to school with her hair in two dark braids. And she jumped on that stool to sing the Valley Song. My life was never the same after that day. And I really can't envision a life without Katniss. And even if I had to do it all over again, I still would gladly go into an arena to protect her. I would glady be hijacked again, if it meant letting Katniss live. And I would still drag myself out of that hell, and fall head over heels for Katniss. All over again.

Words can't really express the feeling of knowing you're about to be a father. And I guess it won't set in until the baby is born. And I sit here fidgeting with my hands as Katniss paces. Dr. Stred asking her questions. The morning streams through the windows and I know it has to be about eight o'clock. I start to wonder if this baby will ever be born. Katniss' groan jolts me out of my thoughts and brings my attention to the situation at hand. Katniss sits on the edge of the bed and I get up to sit beside her. My left arm loops around her waist and she exhales in exhaustion. Katniss has always been a fighter, a survivor. And it hurts to see her so exhausted and fatigued.

Before I know it, Katniss' back is against my chest and she grips my hands as she's ordered to push. Her grip gets so tight, that I start to wonder when she got this strong. Katniss gathers up as much strength and does what Dr. Stred tells her to do. I try to offer help. But Katniss can't hear me anyway, I know. And I'm not the one giving birth to a baby. So I wait. I hold her hands as she fights. Pushing her body to the aboustle limit. I rub her forearm as she exhales and lands back on my chest.

She's not as young as she used to be.

_Come on, Katniss. You can do this._ I think.

"You can do this," I whisper, leaving a kiss on her ear. She nods virguosuly and stops the blood flow to my hands, but I could really care less about my hands, right now.

They say one of the most beautiful things given to us in this dark world, is childbirth. The beauty of a new mother. The purity and innocence of a newborn infant. The cry of an infant as they enter the world. Maybe it's the near-death experience a mother receives. Maybe it's the joy you feel when you feel the weight of your own in your arms. An awakening. A responsibility.

Maybe I'm having a flashback. Maybe I'm drowning. It's almost like slow motion. The ringing in my ears roars to life in a split second. Expect it's not ringing. It's an infant crying. And it's not just any infant.

It's our baby.

"It's a girl."

We have a little girl.

I'm jolted to reality. Katniss limp on my chest. Dr. Stred holding a screaming child.

"Come here, Peeta." she calls for me and I climb out from behind Katniss. Leaving a kiss on her forehead as I push wet hair off her face.

Maybe cutting the umbilical cord is symbolical. It seems that was something the father's always did. The last tie an infant has to the womb. Probably since the father placed the child there, himself, it's only right to free the child.

After almost 16 years, I'm finally holding my daughter. And I grin, her dark hair, just like her mother's. She's loud when she wants to be, like Katniss. And I can only hope that she is exactly like Katniss. With every feature and personality, like Katniss.

"Hey there, I'm your daddy." She stops screaming at my voice.

I'm a daddy.

"Mother and baby are very healthy." Dr. Stred says. Thank God.

I tread over to Katniss. Who's resting against the headboard. She's practically glowing. It's true; a new mother is the most beautiful creature. I place the baby in Katniss' arms and for the first time in ages. Katniss is happy. Her eyes dance in the sunlight. Ever since I first saw Katniss, I've never seen her smile quite like this. It's a smile that can't replace anything. A smile that speaks volumes louder than words.

"She has your nose," I say. Kneeling down to Katniss' side. She meets my gaze again and I melt in those eyes. Those grey orbs that I've always gotten lost in. Katniss looks down at our baby again. I reach out touch her infant fingers and she reaches out and grasp my index finger.

I think I'm falling in love all over again.

Her eyes flutter open. unmistakable blue. Blue eyes I see in the mirror everyday.

"She has your eyes," Katniss whispers.

"What's her name?" Dr. Stred says.

Honestly, I haven't given much thought to names. We never found one we liked.

"Camellia Mellark." Katniss whispers. Camellia. A flower.

"I like it." I say.

Dr. Stred excuses herself and I curl up on the bed next to Katniss. She soon tells me to sleep, and I do.

I wake up to the sun and Katniss' breathing. Katniss hands me Camellia and turns to the shower. When she returns I lead her to the nursery. The room I've been working on for months now. I kept it a secret from Katniss, I wanted it to be a surprise.

"It's beautiful." Katniss says. I tried to mix everything me and Katniss liked in here. And the mural on the wall does that perfectly. My favorite color and her favorite color. A mix of our two favorite things. And Camellia is a mix of us, I thought it tied in quite well. I jolt when I hear the front door slam. After being in two Hunger Games, noises still scare me.

Turns out it's Haymitch. Katniss and Haymitch fail miserably at conversation and Katniss walks up the stairs. Haymitch takes Camellia.

"Well, you're a pretty little thing, aren't you?" Haymitch says, smiling. I haven't seen him smiling very often. "What's her name?" Haymitch asks.

"Camellia." I say.

"Now, you can't be butt-headed like your mom, okay?" Haymitch says, letting out a soft laugh as he holds Camellia.

"You'll be a good father, boy." Haymitch says, handing me Camellia back and waving a goodbye as he walks out the door.

"I hope so," I whisper, looking down at another human being I'm responsible for. I can't fail her. She's my daughter.

And then my mind wonders at the possibility of having a flashback. Hurting Camellia. Hurting Katniss. Camellia growing up around a father who can morph into a killer. I shake the thoughts from my head and sit back down again. Camellia's eyes open for a moment and she gives me a glance with the blue eyes we share. A glance that says, _don't worry_. Maybe a baby is just what we needed; to ground us.

And I wonder if this is how my dad felt when I was born. Unexplainable joy. But also, heartache. The fear you'll fail your child in every way. But also the joy of knowing you are holding your own in your arms. And the joy outweighs the fear of failing.

No nightmares come that night, how could they?


	20. Chapter 20

**All characters belong to Suzanne Collins. I own nothing. No copyright infringement intended. **

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**A/N:** I hit 100 reviews! I can't believe this! I want to thank all of you precious people! I love you all! I'm so glad you all enjoyed the last chapter. I love babies and births, so I enjoyed writing that chapter.

I also have some news, I do not plan on leaving this fan fic anytime soon. That is, of course until I feel that I'm stretching it out too far. But, I am planning another fan fic. Writing keeps me busy and I've only

attempted post-Mockingjay fanfiction. My new fan-fic is going to be an array of one shots about different characters. Arranging from Peeta to Mrs. Everdeen. And many others.

I'm not leaving this fan fic. This fan fic is my baby, I'm not going to leave you guys in the cold. I just want to experiment with this idea and see how it goes. :)

_Example 1)_: A chapter about Peeta's father's reaction to the Quarter Quell announcement.

_Example 2)_: A chapter about Mrs. Everdeen and Mr. Everdeen; how they met and how she choose between a coal miner and a baker.

Like? I'm really excited about it. Here is the summary. Review and tell me your thoughts. (This isn't up yet. I will let you all know when it is.)

_"Moments In Time"_

Summary:

An array of one shots based off The Hunger Games and it's different characters. Mostly revolving around Katniss and Peeta's past. And some moments in the books that were lightly touched on. Some AU and some happenings in the trilogy. Different perspectives. Read & Review.

Let me know. :)

-Joy

(Sorry for spelling mistakes or grammar errors.)

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_Here, my dear_

_This is where_

_We'll shake the nightmares free_

_I dream to hold you in my arms_

_I dream to hold you in my arms_

_To hold you in my arms_

_Wide awake in my arms_

_In My Arms - Jon Foreman_

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There wasn't sleepless nights. They were actually peaceful nights. Camellia was a quiet baby, when she wanted to be. She slept through the night, which I was thankful for. She's only a few days old, but you can tell she's such a happy baby. She'll smile when she hears her father's voice and she'll open her bright eyes when she hears mine. She loves Peeta to the moon and back. The same goes for Peeta. She's got him wrapped around her finger. I almost have to pry her from his hands when she has to nurse. And I'm so thankful Peeta's happy again. The more he's happy the less his flashbacks come. And I haven't seen him have a flashback in months. I hope everyday that Peeta never has a flashback around Camellia. It would break his heart.

Everyday when I wake up and take Camellia in my arms, I wonder why we couldn't have had her sooner. She's so happy, she loves everyone, and she brings so much joy to everyone. She reminds me of Peeta in so many ways. His eyes. His smile. His personality, Cameilla has them.

But, it's when I look in those sky blue eyes, I know one day, we'll have to tell her why her father has unexpected fits and why her mother screams in her sleep. We'll have to tell her who the man next door really is. How he's not really a friend. He's so much more. And there are reasons why he's so much more than a friend. We'll have to tell her that she has an aunt and uncle's she'll never meet, and we'll have to tell her how they died. How can I tell her about that wretched world that I've tried so hard to forget? Why memorials to the Hunger Games are plastered all over the Justice Buildings. Why her parents are plastered there, too. I'll have to hold her hand and explain that her parents love was one time fake and staged. But never for her father. Peeta reminds me he'll be there to explain to her also. We'll tell her that we won our freedom back. That it was a war that saved us. But also killed us.

Ever since Peeta was kidnapped, the pain of knowing he was gone, crawled into my being and made me fear the day we grow old. And I can only hope I'll go first. I don't think I could live here without him. Maybe we'll die together.

Camellia's cry of hunger jolts me from my gaze out the window. I forgotten I was supossed to be cooking while Camellia slept. I do this too much. I get caught up in my thoughts and gaze off. Forgetting the world. And I don't do what I'm supposed to do.

I turn on my heel and tread up the stair case. Reaching the hallway and walking into the nursery, reaching down and taking Camellia in my arms. Comforting her as her crys soften and she calms down. I sit down in the rocking chair that sits across from the mural. The perfect sunset.

Peeta finally went back to work. He rushes home for lunch and then back. Eddie and Cole offered to take care of the bakery for him longer, but I insisted he go back. I know he just wants to spend time with his family, but I enjoy having Camellia to myself sometimes. And the bakery needs Peeta. Oh, how he bragged on Camellia. Everyone that came in the bakery asked about the baby, knowing I was near my due date. -I couldn't keep anything a secret- Peeta gushed, being the proud new father he was. Vicci came by soon after Camellia was born and fell in love with her also. Going on about how she favored me. I think she favors Peeta more. And I like that. Greasy Sae came by also. She enjoyed holding a baby, I think. Something she hadn't done in a while. And Greasy Sae has become like a grandmother to me. It was only right for her to gush over Camellia, also.

"Are you hungry?" I ask Camellia. Giving her a grin and tickling her belly. She smiles slighty and I unfasten my shirtfront and bring her to my chest.

"Did you know that your daddy saved my life?" I whisper. Staring at the sunset Peeta painted. Swaying back and forth in the sunlight as Camellia moves her tiny fingers across my chest. She lifts her gaze at my voice.

"He saved my life many times. I thought I would never be able to repay him for everything he's done for me. I think you are all he wanted in return." I say. Reaching down to hold her small hand between my fingers.

I always thought I owed everyone something. I learned that sometimes you just can't repay people. I'll go to my grave thinking about that day in the rain when we were eleven. It will never leave me. Because out of all those people, he was the only one that had a heart. He received a beating for me. And he received so much more because of me. But after really knowing Peeta, I understand that he expects nothing in return. He just likes being nice. He enjoys taking care of people. He likes feeling needed.

"I really just wanted you in return. Camellia is a wonderful bonus, but I couldn't have had her without you." I snap my head up and find Peeta leaning against the doorway. His arms crossed over his chest.

"How long have you been there?" I ask. He smiles for a second.

"You were too deep in thought to hear me come through the door for lunch." Peeta says. And it's true. Camellia's fallen asleep again and I didn't even know.

He smiles again and walks over and carefully takes Camellia from my arms and lays her in her crib. Then strides back over and crouches in front of me.

"I love you." he says, leaning in for a kiss. A kiss we haven't shared in days. I've been too busy being a mother to even give Peeta the affection he deserves. And I have missed him.

"I love you, too." I say. Breaking away and intertwining my fingers with his on the arms rest of the chair. I fasten my shirt and follow Peeta down to the kitchen, where I left the remnents of what I wanted to cook. Then forgetting and having to tend to Camellia.

"We'll have to tell her one day, Peeta." He pauses in front of the stove. Turning around on his heel, facing me. Sadness crosses his eyes.

"Let's not rush it. We have at least 5 years before she has to know anything." he says.

"They'll teach it in school. She'll ask questions." I say. Sighing as I sprawl my arms on the kitchen table. Resting the side of my head on my forearms.

"We'll answer her questions without totally scaring her." He says. Turning around again and pouring rice into a pot.

I nod and watch Peeta cook. Moving from counter to counter. The summer sun swimming through the windows. Making his blonde hair sparkle in the sunlight. His strong hands cutting various vegetables. I bite my lip and try to think about other things.

It's been about two weeks since Camellia was born. I called my mother a few days ago. She asked questions. Mostly medical questions a doctor would ask. I asked her if she still planned on coming down. She floored me when she said she still planned on coming at the end of August. About two weeks from now. I'm anxious about seeing my mother again. I haven't seen her in almost 17 years. My stomach tightens when I think about it.

I did speak to Annie. Finnick Jr. is almost 17. Annie sent me some of his school pictures. My heart leaped for a split second when I thought I saw Finnick in the pictures. He looked like his father so much. And I had to hold back the tears, knowing he never got to meet his courageous father.

Annie squealed in delight over the arrival of Camellia. Offering suggestions and advice, that I glady took.

I haven't been hunting in what feels like years. But I'm afraid to leave Camellia alone. I decided to just go on the weekends when Peeta isn't working. Peeta can watch her while I hunt. I need to go hunting. I need a break.

The clank of a plate in front of me brings me to reality. Peeta setting down a plate for me and then himself.

"Did you really mean that, earlier?" Peeta asks. Gesturing upstairs.

"What?" I ask.

"About you not knowing how to repay me? You know that you don't have to repay me for things, Katniss." Peeta says. Giving me a look of disapproval.

"It'a hard to explain. I've always felt the need to repay someone if they did something nice for me. I've just always been that way." I say. Peeta nods.

"Please don't think that you need to repay me. I don't want to be repayed. I have you and Camellia. That's more than anything I could ever want." He says. Reaching his hand under the table to grab my hand. I smile because he acts like such a child sometimes.

"Okay." I say, meeting his gaze and squeezing his hand. He smiles and playfully nudges my knee with his own. His gives me those eyes I can't refuse, and I lean into him and just when I think, we could get away for a little while. Not have to worry about the world for a little bit, and finally have time to ourselves. Camellia's cries waiver through the house. I sigh and push back the chair from the table. Peeta leans back and I hear him groan as I walk up the stairs. We have barely kissed in weeks. The idea of Haymitch watching Camellia for a few hours is sounding better and better. I love Camellia, so does Peeta. But, I think a baby was more than he bargained for.

I find Camellia and lean her against my shoulder and calm her before I walk back downstairs. She stops crying and I take her down to Peeta before he has to leave for work again. He grins and places a kiss on her head and one on my lips and walks out the door again. I lay Camellia in her swing and clean up the rements of lunch.

After a while, Haymitch comes walking in. Baby talking Camellia. He picks her up out of her swing and sits down with her. I smile.

"Hey, how about you spend the day with her sometime?" I ask, shooting him a mischievous glance.

"Why? So you and the boy can pop out another one?" He asks, laughing.

"Haymitch!" I say, holding back a growl as I scoot his feet off the coffee table. Giving him a scowl.

"No thanks, I'd rather not be a help to those _kind_ of problems." He says, laughing quietly and giving a grin to Camellia. He's good with her. But, I think because she's still an infant, he doesn't trust himself.

"Okay," I say, sighing. Vicci will take care of Camellia, she's already offered. Besides, she needs something to do. And I can finally have a break.

But, when I do get a chance to take Camellia over to Vicci's and Peeta's off work. What I thought would be a day off. Just Peeta and me. Turns into the two of us falling asleep from the exhaustion of being parents. Getting up in the middle of the night for feedings. And still being woken up by nightmares. Camellia needing to be changed almost every hour.

Before we fell asleep, we made the promise to not talk about Camellia. It was just a day for us.

Camellia was all we could talk about.

And when we do wake up, it's past three, and I'm supossed to go get Camellia at four. I rub the sleep out of my eyes and stretch. Rising to my feet in front of the couch. When wide hands crawl around my waist and pull me back down.

"I have to go get Camellia by four, Peeta." I say, my legs swung over his lap and his arms still around my waist.

"A lot can happen before four." He gives me a michevious glance and I laugh and his lips crawl onto mine. Feeling more alive than I have in days. Our bodies moving as one, once again. Which is fine, since we already agreed that Camellia is all we need right now, so Peeta didn't complain when I traveled to the medical center for a prevention shot. Maybe in the future Camellia can have a sibling. A relationship like I did with Prim.

I reluctantly leave Peeta when the clock strikes four. Pulling on my boots and walking out the door.

Vicci sits on the front porch in the mid-August summer breeze. Rocking in one of the weathered rocking chairs. I tread up the porch steps and give Camellia a grin and chuckle as she notices who I am.

"Hey, did you miss me?" I say, as Vicci hands her over.

"She's a good baby," Vicci says. Giving me a smile.

"Thank you for watching her," I say. I tried offering her money for my gratitude, but she refused. They no longer needed help, and she voulentered to watch Camellia.

"I'll see you soon," I say.

"See you soon." Vicci replies.

Peeta instantly wants to hold Camellia. He's so attached to her, and I find it sweet. She's such a daddy's girl. I can only hope my daughter grows up to have a relationship with Peeta like I did with my father. The bond that a father has with his daughter, isn't something that can be broken easily.

I tried to tell Peeta no. That it would only spoil Camellia in the end. I couldn't refuse him though. Peeta loved having Camellia sleep with us. I think she enjoyed it too. And I loved to roll over and find Peeta staring at his daughter like he was trying to memorize her every feature. Counting her fingers and toes. I think it calmed him. Brought him to reality, knowing his own was laying beside him. Camellia helped me with my nightmares too.

And that's when I realized, the dark-haired little girl in my dreams was like Camellia. I smiled. That dream, I had forbidden. Was afraid of. Is reality now. We have a dark-haired little girl. And I can't believe I refused her for so long.

It's when I'm standing with my husband by my side and my daughter in my arms, waiting for the woman I haven't seen since the war, the woman that raised me. I look down at my daughter, and know that if she ever treated me like I treated my mother, I would distance myself also. And that's when I know, I regret taking my mother for granted all those years. Holding a grudge against her. Hating her for falling into a depression, that I later fell into.


	21. Chapter 21

A/N: Thank you all for your kind words and reviews. Now, if you could show some love to my new story, which you can find on my profile, "Moments In Time." that would mean so much!

Enjoy this chapter! :)

-Joy

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Anxiety takes over my being and makes me second guess my decision. We stand on a wooden platform. The sun shining through the clouds in the August weather. The grass swaying in the summer breeze and Peeta's complaining of the heat, keep my thoughts at bay. The fear of seeing the woman I haven't in years, again. Will she be happy? Will she be disapointed in me?

Everytime I get overwhelmed or distraught one reassuring glance from Peeta or Camellia bring me to reality and kill the pain for a moment. Making me so thankful for them. That I agreed to try for a baby, because Camellia's my flesh and blood. I'm her mother and Peeta's her father, and I wouldn't have it any other way. No, but's, and's, or if's about it.

The shaking of the platform and the buzzing of a nearby train makes me swallow the lump in my throat and makes me focus on reality. I hold Camellia tighter and Peeta's hand brushes my back, he can tell I'm nervous.

The silver bullet of a train stops and Camellia opens her blue eyes because of the noise of chattering people. I smile. I look up from her gaze and focus on the heads of the people coming off the train. Waiting for the blonde woman that birthed me to step off. I spot her in the crowd of overflowing people and Peeta nods at me. I take in a ragged breath and close my eyes for a spilt second. Unraveling my memories. The moment when my mother was standing where I was and she was waiting for me to step off that train. The day I returned from the Games, almost 19 years ago. When I thought everything would go back to normal. I try to understand my mother's happiness and anxiety of getting her daughter back after she knew she would never see me again. That day. It stands out in my memory. That moment I took Peeta's hand, knowing I had made a mistake. That I would be stalked by the Capitol for the rest of the year, little did I know the rest of my life.

My mother was just along for the ride.

I take in a breath and open my eyes and shut out the memories. My mother spots us on the platform and offers a kind smile as she grabs her luggage and walks over. Her hair is in a bun, and she looks older, but not by much. She still looks like my mother. Her blue eyes have faded in age, and pain. But I would know my mother anywhere.

She treads over and I hurriedly hand Camellia to Peeta. I turn around and my mother walks up the stairs of the platform.

"Katniss," she whispers, a kind smile playing on her lips. I don't hesitate. I meet her half way and wrap my arms around her frame. Missing her warm

embrace for 17 years.

"I'm sorry," I admit. Holding back the pain that inflicted me when my father died. Holding back the pain of Prim's death. Holding back the pain of losing everything I'd ever known. There's some things you just can't let go until you see the person that was there, holding your hand when you took your first steps. The person that cared for you all of your life.

"If anyone should be sorry, it's me, Katniss." My mother says, pulling back and looking me in the eye. Years of pain live in those blue eyes. She gives me a glance that could see through your soul. But she pulls me toward her again. Rubbing my back and giving me a kiss on the cheek. Like she did when I was a child. Those comforting gestures that made everything okay.

She straightens her back and lets out a small laugh. Looking past my shoulder. I turn and follow her toward Peeta.

"My, you two are making me feel old." She says, giving us both a glance. Peeta chuckles and I smile. Regretting the 17 years I shut her out.

Her eyes fleet down to the bundle that Peeta holds and her eyes grow large in only what I can describe is pure elation.

Peeta hands over Camellia and my mother takes her in her arms.

"So, this is Camellia. Why, you look like your mother." She gives Camellia a huge grin and laughs. This is what I want to remember for the rest of my life. My mother's face when she met her granddaughter for the first time.

"Oh, but not those eyes, huh? Those are your daddy's." I stand by Peeta and turn my head to meet his gaze and offer him a smile as my mother gushes over our daughter.

Peeta leans down to my ear and whispers, "We make good babies," I draw back in shock and slap his arm. He laughs and I try not laugh myself.

I pray that my mother didn't hear him and return my gaze to my mother and Camellia.

"Let's go home," Peeta speaks up. Grabbing my mother's luggage. He doesn't speak to me, because we can't look at each other without laughing. My mother hands Camellia back over to me and we walk through town. I see the pain that swims in her eyes. Looking at her home. Where her husband died, where her daughter only spent 12 years, when she should have spent so much more. And I spend most of my days wondering why Prim had to die, and I didn't.

We finally make our way to the house and I tell my mother she can take any of the rooms upstairs. She declines and says she'll sleep on the couch.

"Mom, that's uncomfortable." I say. Laying Camellia in her crib.

"No, I'll be fine. I'll only be staying for three nights. Really, it's fine." She says. And I realize why. She doesn't want to go upstairs. Prim's room is up there. I don't argue.

Peeta cooks dinner and Haymitch comes over. Greeting my mother and cooing at Camellia. Surprisingly, Haymitch makes no crude comments and dinner is eaten in peace. And we quickly retire. I offer a goodnight to my mother and meet Peeta on the stairs. Closing the door behind us, I lay Camellia in her crib and turn to Peeta who has a stupid grin plastered on his face. And we both start laughing.

"I think she heard you," I say, referring to his statement on the train platform. I tread into the bathroom with a grin on my face as Peeta takes off his shoes and soon follows me.

"Well, I think what I said was true." Peeta offers, meeting my gaze in the bathroom mirror. I look past him into the bedroom and stare at the white crib he spent so much time on building, that now holds our baby.

"Me too," I say, giving him a shy smile. Quickly sharing a glance in the mirror.

When we do climb into bed, I crawl into Peeta's grasp. His arm supporting my neck and my forearm resting on his chest. We slept like this in the cave of our first Games and I screw my eyes shut. But that only makes it easier to see the memories.

Memories. That's what won't leave me. They open up like a book in my mind. That first kiss where I felt stirring in my chest. And then the beach, when Peeta gave me his life. And I felt the warmth radiate through my being when I kissed his mouth. The night I fell hard, and Peeta didn't fall with me, because he was ripped away from me by the Capitol. The guilt that ate away at me like a poisonous disease. Those moments in 13 when all I could think about was that I failed Peeta. I failed myself. Those days when I spent my hours in hatred and desperation for human contact.

I whimper and snuggle into Peeta's shirt. Hiding from the memories. Some of them good, some memories I enjoy. But most I don't. Most of the memories that consume me, make me want to run away again. But I can't. I have a daughter to look after. I can't just leave her. I have a responsibility.

Peeta registers that I'm upset and curls his forearm around my frame. I just want his comfort. I don't want words. I just need his warmth. The reality that he's here now and he won't leave. He turns on his side and pulls my head under his chin. Curling his fingers into my hair.

"Does it hurt to remember things? Like what happened in our Games?" I whisper. Taking in Peeta's familiar scent of cinnamon. Another memory.

"Yes. But I try not to focus on the past. I try to focus on reality." He says, letting out a sigh. I nod against his chest.

"It's just so hard sometimes. I always go back and blame myself for you being captured, or Prim's death." I bring my gaze to his and our fingers find each other's, intertwining and laying between us.

Peeta stares at me for a moment in silence and he opens his mouth to speak. " I go back and blame myself for anything and everything. It doesn't change anything, though. Katniss, the Capitol was going to hi-jack me either way. There was nothing you could have done. And the Capitol killed Prim. It was all the Capitol. None of it was your fault or mine." He says. Using his free hand to cup my face and drag his thumb across my cheek. I close my eyes and take in a ragged breath. The fear ebbing away. And in one moment, Peeta's lips are on mine. His movements, soft and caring, not full of desire or passion. Just a sweet kiss that admits things his voice can't. That he understands. I try to memorize the feeling. Of just this simple gesture we've shared a thousand times. But it always sends me over the edge. The way when he breaks away his blue eyes shine and he gives me a smile that I only saw when we were kids. The nervous smile he gave me when I caught him staring.

"Do you think my mom regrets coming down here?" I ask, after Peeta's settled his head back on his pillow. Running his thumb over the back of my hand.

"No. I think she enjoyed seeing you. And Camellia." He says. His warm breath running down my neck. I cling to his hand.

"I know she misses my dad, terribly. I miss him more than anything." I fleet my eyes toward the mattress. The pain of my father's death has never left me and it never will. He was too important to me. And I only wish there was a way I could get him back.

"I know," Peeta pulls my body toward his and I lean heavily into his chest. Willing back the pain of death. The scars that are threatening to open again. I will away the tears. Not now. And I suddenly get the motive to dive into the woods in the middle of the night. I ignore it.

I wiggle from Peeta's grasp and look over his shoulder, finding the time.

"Where you going?" Peeta asks. I roll my eyes and laugh softly.

"Well, it's past time Camellia was supposed to have a feeding." I give Peeta a lazy kiss on his lips and swing my legs off the bed. Walking over to the crib and carefully taking Camellia in my arms.

"Hey Cam," Peeta started calling Camellia, "Cam" and it stuck. Her blue eyes flutter open and I lean into the rocking chair. Peeta's already falling asleep, and he should be, it's late. I force myself to stay awake, and it's difficult. Rocking back and forth, feeding a hungry baby when all you want to do is sleep.

Her eyes soon close in exhaustion and her mouth falls from my chest and I carefully lay her slumbering body in the white crib. Hesitating for a moment to muse over the fact that Camellia is our baby. I still can't comprehend it. That something so perfect could come out of such broken people.

Fastening my shirt, I crawl back into bed. Melting into Peeta's chest, I lazily grab his arm and pull it around my side. He awakes for a moment, only to tighten his grip on my hand and then falling asleep again. Myself soon following.

When I do wake up, Peeta's side of the bed is cold, and the crib is empty. I know Peeta took Camellia down to my mother and cooked breakfast. So I pull on a pair of pants and a shirt and tread downstairs. Cursing myself for not waking earlier.

My mother sits in the living room with Camellia. And Peeta's sitting on the kitchen counter. Drinking his coffee and picking at his blonde curls that have gotten too long.

"Get off the counter, Peeta." This is routine. I have to scold him like a child. He knows I don't like it when he sits on the counter, but he does it anyway. A grin creeps on his features as he pulls the mug away from his face.

"Good morning to you too." He says. Grinning like a fool. I stifle a chuckle and he hops off the counter. Leaning heavily on his right leg. His good one.

I tread over to the living room and sit next to my mother. She smiles.

"Do you want to see the nursery?" I ask. She nods and follows me up the stairs. Holding Camellia as she goes. I crack open the door and walk in.

"Wow, this is nice." Her attention is grabbed by the mural on the wall. "Peeta painted it." I say. She smiles again and nods. And we walk down the stairs again. Peeta's pulling on his shoes and he catches my attention.

"They need me at the bakery, I'll see you later." He says. I nod and he gives me a peck on this cheek and waves a goodbye to my mother. And a coo at Camellia.

"You know, I have to be honest. After all that happened, I'm not surprised one bit you two are married and have a baby." My mother says. Fleeting her gaze toward Camellia and then back at me. My eyes catch the band on my left hand as I wash a bottle for Camellia. I smile for a moment.

"Me either," I say. And really I'm not surprise this is where I stand, 17 years later.

I hand a bottle to my mother and Camellia swallows her meal hungrily. I would have breast feed her, but it's easier just to bottle feed her, sometimes.

"She's a daddy's girl. You should have seen her when she was born. First thing she did was grab Peeta's finger." I say. After we're seated again. I smile, staring into those blue eyes that are exact replicas of her father's. Her happy expression.

"I saw that this morning. She started crying when Peeta left her with me." She says. Meeting my gaze. Silence takes over the conversation for a while.

"I'm sorry I didn't come sooner." She finally whispers.

"It's okay. I understand. It doesn't matter anymore." I say. The past is the past and even though it still haunts me in my sleep, doesn't mean it has to haunt me when I'm awake.

My mother nods and she asks me about 12. What's been going on. I ask her about 4, and she tells me she's one of the head doctors and enjoys her job. I know she misses Prim by her side. That's why she dives into her work.

I enjoy the time me and my mother get to spend together. Finally understanding the motives she had when I was younger. Me being a mother myself, I can relate to her and I don't hold a grudge toward her anymore. It feels like a thousand burdens have been lifted off my shoulders, not being angry at my mother anymore. I've done so much to hurt her, and she's not angry at me, why should I be angry at her?

I do end up showing her the memory book. And we both will back the tears when we come upon my father and Prim. The pain of their deaths, still so fresh and hurtful. But it helps to have my mother there, missing the same people I miss. It's nice having her arms to wrap around me like she did when I was a child. And I realize, just how much I've missed her.


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N:** I saw this scene played out in my head and I simply adored it. And I can only hope I gave it justice. Before I write anything, I see it in my head like a movie. Background music camera zooms, etc. So, I can only hope you see this like I saw it in my head. Thank you for all of your precious reviews. I love you all. :)

And if you have a tumblr, you can follow me: even-the-birds-listen dot tumblr dot com

-Joy

Sorry for spelling errors and grammar mistakes.

* * *

-My Love-

_My love, I've grown weary with this battle; this battle of myself. _

_My love, I can't see where I'm going. The past binds me and takes me hostage in the night. _

_Carry me, my love. Your arms are the only place I can call home._

_Show me the light, my love, before we say goodnight. _

(Written by me, Joy.)

* * *

I would be lying if I said there wasn't tears when my mother returned to 4. I had grown used to her being around. And it tore my heart out when she stated it was time for her to go.

Her visit made the past seem so real again. Those memories not leaving me. That fear ebbing through my being, waiting to roar like a lion and consume me. Just waiting for me to breakdown.

"Promise me something," My mother asked, standing on the platform of the train.

"Anything," I reply.

"If you and Peeta decide to have anymore kids, I want to be there for their births, okay?"

"Okay," I smile and she kisses me on the cheek and I embrace her once more, just to feel her arms around me. And then she gives one last goodbye to Camellia and Peeta and walks up the stairs to her train.

I wipe my cheeks with my palms and watch the train zip away.

* * *

I did exactly what I promised myself I would never do. I allowed myself to ignore the world and live in my wretched thoughts. To crawl under the safety of blankets and ignore my family. Everything seemed like a blur. A hazy, misty, cold night, in my mind. I ran from my fears. I ran from reality. Disappearing in my damnable depression.

My mother brought home so many memories I spent years crawling away from. She brought back my childhood in my face. I spent decades building the walls that separated me from those years. My father's memory keeps haunting me. I see him blown up in those wretched mines every night. I see Camellia being ripped away from me by Snow. Blood dripping off his lips. Making me watch him kill my daughter. My helpless three-month old baby. I see Peeta being whipped, cut, abused, and assaulted in my nightmares. I've started to ignore him too.

Peeta tries to talk to me, but he knows it won't do any good. I shut out reality. I shut him out. I shut out the cries of Camellia. I love them, I'll lose them. I'm so tired. I'm beyond repair anymore. I'm so broken that I can barely move. One move and the pieces that I tried to fix, will fall apart. I can't handle anymore of the pain. Maybe I am made of glass. Threatening to shatter into a million different shards.

I try to stifle the sobs that threatens to rip through my chest when I think of my father singing mountain air melodies. I curl under the blankets. Gripping my knees.

I try to understand why I'm so upset. Maybe it is the memories. But it's mostly because Greasy Sae passed a few days ago. She was the only person I had left that knew the same District 12 I did. She cared about me and my family. She was like a grandmother to me, and I wasn't even there when she died. I wasn't there to hold her hand and tell her thank you for caring. For forcing me to eat those mornings when I wanted to escape into oblivion. But she wouldn't let me. And I can't thank her enough.

We did attend her funeral. Her granddaughter had her buried in the outskirts of District 12. I remember that day like it was yesterday. Pulling on clothes that were solid black. It made me feel even more sick. I felt like Sae wouldn't want us crying over her. She would want us to be happy and live our lives. But I'll miss her so much, and nothing can replace her love in my life.

But I am crying over her. I am hoping to escape into oblivion. I am praying morning doesn't come. I am crying over the death of Prim. I am crying over my father's death. I'm crying over being a terrible mother.

I hear Peeta's heavy, uneven tread and I quickly dive under the blankets again. Hoping he'll go away. Leaving me alone in my self-pity.

The door cracks open and he walks over to my side of the bed. I hear his breathing and wish more than anything he would curl up beside me and tell me it'll be okay in time. I need reassurance.

"Katniss, you need to eat." He says. I can practically see the concern in his blue eyes. The way he finds my form in the blankets and I feel his warm hand rub against my shoulder.

"Please, for me and Camellia." I hold back a sniffle and betray my will to stay under the covers. I reach out my hand out under the warmness of the quilt and raise my head to meet his gaze. He gives me a concerned look and sits down on the side of the bed beside my legs. A plate on the table beside the bed. His arms affectionately tracing over my legs. I don't refuse his touch.

"Can you tell me why you've gotten to the point of not getting out of bed?" My eyes follow his hands. That rest on my knee and his gaze boring a hole into my head. I don't want to talk about Sae or my mother. I don't want to be weak, but I am weak. I just want to curl into a ball and disappear. I'm so tired of reality and how life is so cruel.

So, I just shake my head and stab my fork into the eggs. Hoping he'll just go away. I don't want his pity.

But when I raise my gaze to his and really look at him, he looks like he's been up for hours. There are dark circles under his blue eyes and he looks so tired. I know it's because of Camellia. He's been up for nights with her. And a pang of guilt rushing through me makes me want to cry again.

"I've known you for almost twenty years, Katniss. I know when you're upset. Despite the obvious signs. Red eyes. You won't get out of bed. You won't even hold our daughter. Talk to me, please." His hand glides up to mine and I shift; refusing his touch. Laying my plate on the table I curl my arms in front of my chest. His eyes give off the pleading of a child and he looks wounded when I won't

accept his touch.

"Peeta," I haven't spoke in days. And I feel those stupid tears prickling my eyes. "Sae was the only person I had left that knew the Seam the way I did. And now she's gone too! And I can't lose you and Camellia too! Now leave me alone!" I choke down my sob and quickly wipe the tears before they have a chance to fall. Peeta lingers for a moment. Searching my eyes. His facial expression only reading tired and desperate.

"I miss you..." He croaks. I drop my gaze to my hands. "You won't even let me hold you anymore." It's true. I don't let him hold me. And I regret every moment I push him away. His gaze is staring at the wooden floor. My chest tightens. I've been a horrible wife and mother. "I know you miss Sae. I miss her too. But Katniss, we're not going anywhere. No one is going to take us from you." He finally speaks after a moment's time. His eyes on mine. He scoots over and his face is only inches from my own. And I refuse his embrace. He dives anyway and I beat on his chest with my fists repeatedly. And he takes it. My fists slow down to a complete stop and a sob racks my rip cage. His arms circle around my torso and I sob into his shoulder. My arms curling around his neck.

"I'm sorry," I stutter. Another sob. My tears soaking his shirt. "I'm just so tired, Peeta." I inhale and try to breathe but I fail miserably. And then I remember when Peeta said those same words to me. Another sob. His lips linger at my neck.

"It's okay," He whispers. His hands rub my back and I allow his affection. I have missed him. I've missed human contact. I nod against his shoulder and tighten my grip on his neck; not wanting to let go. I don't want to lose him. I want to know he'll be here forever. I should have accepted Peeta's embraces a long time ago. Instead of laying in bed for weeks. Refusing him.

He draws back and wipes the saltwater tears off my cheeks. His eyes full of love and compassion. And I mentally curse myself for treating him like dirt for weeks. It was easier for me to curl up and ignore the world than to confide in Peeta. He's my husband, I'm supposed to talk to him. And it took him finally refusing to leave and talking to me to break my shell. That wall that I had built up. I can't lie to Peeta.

"It's okay to cry when you're tired. But, don't leave us, Katniss." I know he means to depression. I nod and he wraps his arms around my frame again. Pulling me toward his chest. Where I feel totally and completely safe.

My crying stops, but Peeta still locks me in his embrace. Curling his fingers into my dark hair and lazily pressing his lips to my cheek.

I remember when my mother left us. How broken I felt. All the anger I had built up against her. How she made me so angry I could spit. I did that. I became her. I screw my eyes shut and cling to Peeta's shirt as the memory of her lifeless body laying on the cot and not even Prim could bring her out of her world, surfaces in my mind. The blonde little Primrose just wanting her mother back. She would shake her hand. She would cry, but my mother's eyes grew cold and dead and I had to take over and feed my family. She slowly came out of it, but I still remember everything that happened in that depression.

"I'm ashamed of myself. I did exactly what my mother did. I let memories and death eat away at me like a disease." I say. Peeta leans back and slides his hands down my arms to curl into my fingers. His gaze never leaving mine. Those tired eyes I wish I could renew.

"You're not your mother. We all have to grieve, Katniss." He says. Placing the plate back in my hands and rising to his feet to plant a kiss on the top of my head. And he walks out the door and I can hear his tread travel down the stair case. I finish the food I'm ordered to eat and my feet hit the cold floor. It's autumn now. The leaves are starting to fall outside of the window. I pull my robe tighter to my chest and guide my feet across the hallway to the nursery. I miss my daughter.

But maybe depression is routine for me. Something I can't really get away from. There are too many nightmares and bad memories that hit me like a ton of bricks for me not to feel something. Well, I feel empty and numb when the depression seeps in. And Dr. Aurelius has recommend pills for depression. I refused them. I don't want them.

Camellia lays in her crib. Her blue eyes shining up at mine. Her dark hair growing thick and long at such a young age. The sides of her mouth curl up as I whisper her name. She locks her small hand around my finger. I stifle a sob and wrap my hands around her small frame as I bring her to my shoulder and I walk over to the rocking chair.

Those small times of depression always take so much from me. It's like I'm not even me. Some cold version of me has taken over and she won't let me hold my baby or kiss my husband. And when I finally do break free of it, I feel like a child learning to walk.

It's the small moments that I cherish the most with Camellia. Her blue eyes. The way she smiles. How her nose wrinkles when she's upset. How she lays in my arms now. And how I regret refusing to hold her these last few days. I've missed her weight in my arms. And I try to compose myself when I think of how soon, she'll be grown up. Starting school. She'll grow up and she won't need me and Peeta to take care of her anymore. She'll learn about us. She'll learn that she has the title of a Victor's kid. And if I could, I would never tell her. For my sake. But that would be selfish. She deserves to know.

"I'm sorry, Cam." I whisper. Apologizing for more than she'll ever comprehend. I'm sorry for leaving her. I'm sorry for what happened in the past. I'm sorry I'm not a good mother. I'm sorry I'm too broken to raise her. She wraps her hand around my finger again and gives me a quizzical look. I smile. No. I will be a good mother. I have to be.

I become better. I get up out of bed and I even go hunting. Feeling alive again when I have my bow back in my grip. The release of the arrow as it flies into nearby game. I do miss Gale's presence beside me in the woods. His teasing and constant advice. I miss his friendship. Maybe I should call him. Ask him if he got married yet and how he likes married life. I smile. Gale, married.

Peeta smiles more and I do too. Haymitch comes by often and plays with Camellia. Offering grins and tickles. She was just what we needed. And I haven't seen him take a sip of liquor since I was pregnant with Camellia.

Peeta hasn't had a flashback in months. But his nightmares are getting worse since Camellia was born. And I know why. He sees her being ripped from him in his sleep, just like I do. It's a terrible feeling. Knowing your own is being killed in your nightmares. He freezes in his sleep and tenses up under my touch. I try to calm him, but it takes him a while to recognize his surroundings.

I curl up into his frame just like any other night and he wraps his arm around my side. Laying his head in my hair, he falls asleep quickly. His heavy breathing feeling the quiet air. My eyelids soon heavy and I find sleep. Only to be awoken by Peeta. His body frozen and stiff. Paralyzed.

"Peeta," I shake his shoulder slightly and his eyes fly open. He shifts his head from left to right and then focuses on me. His eyes grow red and his grip on me tightens. I rub his shoulder until he speaks.

"I hate those stupid nightmares." He says. His voice shaky and uneven. "I hate the fact I've already seen you and Camellia killed a thousand times. I hate it." I curl my arms around his neck. His chest falls with a sob and I know that his nightmare was worse than ever tonight. And the bad thing is, there's nothing I can do. I can't erase that nightmare from his memory. So I just hold him. Just like he's done to me all these years.

"I know. It's okay. We're here." I say. Pulling back to press my lips against his. His lips tasting of salt water. I pull away to say, "You want me to go get Cam?" I ask. He nods like a small child and I swing my legs off the side of the bed. Crossing the hallway to find Camellia's slumbering form in her crib. I carefully pick her up in my arms and carry her across the hallway again. Peeta lays on his side and I lay Camellia's body by his and he touches her small cheek with his finger while I dive under the covers with them. It comforts him knowing she's here. Our baby.

He calms down enough and I press my lips to his once more. Our daughter laying between us in the darkness of nightfall. A comforting kiss that we've shared too many times to count. But Peeta's nightmares are more complex than mine. With the hi-jacking, his nightmares are considerably worse and Camellia is a guest in them. And she is in mine too. You can't wake up fine after you've watched the man you loathe with every fiber in your being. The person that put you through hell, kill your only child. It's worse than an arrow flying through your heart. It's something you can never get out of your mind.

Peeta draws back and smiles at me once more before he returns his attention to our sleeping baby. My hand drifts up to her small hand and we fall asleep with our daughter. Ready to face the nightmares when they come.


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N:** Hello there! I hope that you all read this author's note before you read the chapter. Just a little warning: there are implications of intimacy in this chapter, but I didn't go all graphic on y'all. Who knows, I'm not a big smut person (when it comes to writing it.) but that might change in later chapters. I don't know as of right now, because I don't know how you all would feel about that. But, just enjoy the chapter and don't forget to review. Love you all. :)

-Joy

* * *

"Cam's asleep." I say. Hitting my hip with his while we stand in front of the kitchen window, washing dishes. Peeta gives me a smirk and I grin.

"Oh, really?" He says, quizzically. He picks up a dish towel and I jump back before he has a chance to snap me with it and we both end up laughing and telling each other to be quiet.

"Kiss me." I demand. Pulling my arms around his neck.

"Gladly," Peeta responds. His lips meet mine and I drown in the moment. The quietness of the house and I begin to pray that Camellia doesn't awake from her nap.

With my depression, and Peeta's work, and Camellia, we haven't been intimate in weeks, and I miss my husband. I miss the bliss of laying in his arms. The feeling of being whole.

I grab Peeta's hand in my own and we tread up the stairs. Quietly passing by the nursery and closing the door. Laughing like children. And in the heat of the moment. Kissing while trying to walk, Peeta's prosthetic fails him and we both plummet to the floor. And we both begin laughing.

"We could just stay down here," Peeta muses. I shake my head and grin like a fool.

"Get up," I say. Peeta grins again and we finally get on our feet. Stumbling toward the bed. His hand crawls around my neck and his thumb brushes my cheek when he kisses my mouth again.

"We're getting old." I say.

"Come on, Katniss. We're both only thirty-three. We're not old yet. You can still scurry up a tree like it's nobody's business." I let out a small laugh as Peeta kisses the side of my neck.

"I still feel sixteen when I kiss you." I whisper into his shoulder. He laughs again and brings his face in front of mine. Brushing my nose with his in the process. I wrinkle my nose and his lips flutter on mine again and I finally scratch at his shirt; signaling for him to rid himself of it. He obeys

and straightens his back to pull his shirt over his head.

"How old do you feel now?" He asks. Settling back down to hover over my form. I grin.

"Seventeen."

"Why seventeen?" Peeta asks.

"Because seventeen was the age I knew I loved you." I say. Searching Peeta's eyes before his lips brush mine again. Teasing me.

"Aw, look at you being all sentimental." Peeta says in a mocking manner. I laugh again and so does he.

Peeta starts picking at the end of my braid and I pull it free from its plait. Quickly discarding my shirt in the process.

We've been intimate so many times in the last sixteen years. It's so familiar now. But this time is different. This is comfort and needed reassurance, something I need desperately after spending my days in my thoughts and being lied to by my mind. It's more of a need than want.

It's the concept of the thing. Doing this with Peeta and only Peeta. Something sacred in the walls of marriage. He's my best friend, my husband, the father of my child. I can laugh again. I can smile when Peeta pokes fun at me. Peeta's the one that helps me with my pieces. He has the glue that places them together and stands close by to help when they come unglued again.

Peeta's lips travel down the valley between my breasts and I let my fingers travel through his blond curls.

"Oh no, I think I see grey hair." I say. His eyes fly up to mine and I can't help but laugh.

"You do not." He sputters.

"I'm kidding." I add. Curling my fingers under his chin and bringing his lips to mine.

We're not disturbed. Camellia doesn't awake for sometime and we finally get to spend time with each other. Time that I've missed so much. Time that was spent in kisses and caress and intimacy. Time that makes me so thankful that Peeta's here. Raising Camellia with me. Holding me when I fall asleep.

Peeta's heavy breathing fills the air as his chest lightly lays on my own. I lazily pull his blond hair off of his sweaty forehead. Wondering how things could get any better. The silence that doesn't bring emptiness, but brings comfort. The silence of Peeta's breathing and my own. So silent I can almost hear our heartbeats. I can definitely hear my pulse.

After the Games. After the war. After everything we could have possibly went through, we're here. I always knew we would be. That somehow the tangle that became my life would lead back to Peeta. That maybe we would survive and we would fall in love. Truly. Not just for cameras and people. But for us. And Peeta saw everything. He saw who I really was when he was hi-jacked. A cold, manipulative seventeen year old. Yet, he came back for me. He came back and he still loved me. After everything I had done to him. He came back home and was determined to know I was okay. He was determined to start over. To take care of me, if I allowed him to.

It shatters my heart that he went through so much because of me. My heart made of glass. The heart that has been shattered a million times over. The glass heart that still, somehow, beats. Sometimes I wake up, wondering what my life would be like without his love. Without his voice in the morning. Or his arms at night. The thought buries itself in my belly and makes my glass heart crack, one more time. I wouldn't have Camellia without Peeta. I wouldn't have my precious daughter. If Peeta wasn't here, I would die, everyday. I would aimlessly walk through life, with no destination. If he would have died in that arena, I would have died there, too.

I've watched him. I've watched him laugh and I've watched him cry. I've watched him suffer and I've watched him become new again. I've always had the instinct to watch people. Find their weakness. Much like I would prey. I've learned Peeta's ways. I know when he's on the verge of losing his grip on reality and he knows when I've let the past eat me alive. We can't survive without each other. We never could. We made a promise to protect each other. We didn't know why. We just knew there was something about both of us that drew us to each other.

A perfect correlation; our personalities. Our lives. Our minds. So different, but so perfect. Like that last piece to a puzzle that you've spent a lifetime trying to find. That emptiness in your heart that's finally filled. The beauty of two beings loving each other and knowing they'll do anything for that person.

I glance down at my bare chest for a moment. Peeta drifting to sleep. My pearl in front of my gaze. I pick it up for a moment. The gold chain wrapping around the pearl to hold it around my neck.

Peeta's promise. That he was going to protect me. But that I should move on and forget him.

I could have never, in a million years, forgotten my Peeta. My dandelion. My promise of life. Hope. The stirring in my chest that I never felt before. Peeta was my first kiss. My first love. It was always Peeta. He left an impression on me that no one could buff out. He loved me like no one else did. He made me feel safe and secure, and he still does. So selfless and caring.

We were given a gift. That after all we lost, and drowning in the blood of our loved ones, we were given, simply, love. A true love. A love that engulfs you in flames and you can never escape. A love that last throughout the years. A love that fathoms my imagination. We were given a chance at life again. An endearing, painful, blissful, but heartbreaking chance at life.

I constantly wonder if my father would be proud of the woman I became. A wife, a mother. He would have loved Camellia. He would have sung to her. He would have been so glad to be a grandfather.

I will back the tears. Camellia will never get to meet her grandfather. That rips my heart out of my chest and tosses it in the dirt. She'll never know the man that taught me so much. But I'm determined to teach her what he taught me. From hunting to mountain air songs. I'll make my father proud.

I start to wonder why Peeta cares for me so much. I don't deserve him and I never will. Why, after all this time has he stuck by my side? For eighteen years, Peeta has been there. And when he wasn't physically there, he was in my mind because he never really left my thoughts. I guess I shouldn't question him after eighteen years. It's ridiculous to question him.

I think Peeta worries too much. About me, mostly. That I'm going to do something rash out of depression and that's why he finds the need to constantly stay by me when I do go through those times. And maybe it's a good thing he does.

It's hard to comprehend that eighteen years ago was the last time I saw District 12 before it was bombed. When the Hob still ran. When I could sell my game and my squirrels at the bakery. In return for fresh bread. The last time I saw Prim. Her memory is still so alive in my mind. The cut of her death, numb from time. But still there. Visible and painful. My sweet little sister, who should have never been assigned to that wretched City Circle. She should have never went. Those bombs should have never been released. So many lives could have been spared if it wasn't for selfish, power hungry, morons.

Every time I even think of the people who were in power-Coin and Snow-I instantly begin to fume. I try to calm myself and unclench my fists. Those people killed my family.

I stare up at the ceiling for a moment. Watching where the seams connect and form a whole. I soon betray that.

Peeta shifts for a moment when I try to climb off the bed.

"Where are you going?" He asks, groggily. I laugh for a moment. His mouth agape as he lays on the mattress. He was almost asleep.

"I need to check on Camellia." I say. My feet touch the cold wooden floor and I pull a robe around my bare body. Pulling my hair out that was previously tucked under the fabric of the robe. Peeta nods and pulls the blankets around his form and closes his eyes again.

I walk across the hallway into the nursery and find Camellia awake in her crib. You can't help but grin when she looks at you. So perfect and so beautiful. It's hard to believe she's ours. Her dark hair and blue eyes. I start to hope her hair turns out to be curly, like Peeta's. I pick her up in my arms and tread over to the window. You can see the woods from here and the meadow. It's a perfect autumn day. The leaves slowly falling to the ground and a crisp breeze soaring through the air. Her blue eyes focus on the outside world like she's utterly amazed that exists. I kiss her forehead and lay her back in her crib once more.

"Mama will be right back." I say. Tickling her belly, she coos.

I trek across the hallway again and walk over to the pile of blankets that make up my husband.

"Peeta," I nudge his shoulder and he stirs.

"What is it?" He asks, rubbing his eyes as he falls over on his back. I feel bad for waking him.

"Let's go to the meadow. Cam's never been there." Peeta nods and stumbles out of bed. I throw him some clothes and get dressed myself.

"Why do you have the sudden urge to go to the meadow?" Peeta asks while he ties the laces on his shoes and I plait my hair. I catch his gaze in the mirror.

"I don't know. Maybe because the meadow's important to me. Camellia's never been there and the meadow's so pretty this time of year." I say. Tightening the strand I have on the end of my plait to hold it together. Peeta straightens his back and rises to his feet. He comes behind me and places his hand on the small of my back as I straighten my pearl around my neck.

"You miss your dad, don't you?" I turn around and curl my arms around his waist. Settling my head over his heart. His arms swoop around my frame.

"So much." I say. I miss his voice. His arms. His advice. I miss him. And just like Prim, the Capitol took him. The coal in those mines were for the Capitol. He was killed by the Capitol. He was taken away from his family, by the Capitol.

Peeta pulls back and places his index finger over my heart.

"He's still there. Alive and well." I lean back into his chest. Knowing my father's memory will live with me forever, and that's one thing the Capitol cannot take; my memories.

Peeta goes down to the kitchen and I dress Camellia.

We soon trek out the door and Camellia keeps her eyes on everything as we walk to the meadow. The leaves crunching below our tread. I smile. She's so curious about the outside world. Much like me when it came to the woods. I was curious. I wanted to know more about anything I could.

It's early afternoon and the sun is peaking out behind the clouds. The mockingjays are singing and the insects are flying. Nature at it's finest.

We finally reach the meadow and settle under one of the large trees. Letting Camellia sit in the grass. Well, she's too young to sit on her own so I have to support her. She immediately starts to wonder what she's sitting on even is. Gripping the grass in her small fingers.

"She likes being outside. You'll probably be teaching her to shoot before she can even walk." Peeta quips. Handing Camellia a toy he brought from home. I laugh and watch her chew on her toy.

"You're probably right." I say. Yearning to go shoot right now, but I betray it. Today is Camellia's day.

Peeta pulls out the food he brought from home and we end up have a picnic in the meadow. And I spend most of my time watching Peeta hold Camellia while she drinks her bottle. Something about a father holding his daughter. How their eyes move in the same direction when I speak. It's almost amusing.

It's not luck. It's the hands of fate that brought us here. Bound together by the hands of time. Given us a family. Hope for tomorrow. Those two pairs of blue eyes that tell me, maybe life's not so cruel. We'll be okay.

Sitting here with my husband and my daughter under this tree in the meadow that my father loved, makes me feel somehow connected to him. That he's still looking out for me. I can still see him smiling in my memory. How he would swoop up my mother and dance with her for no reason at all. How she would laugh and Prim and I would smile. My mother adored my father. He was so good to her. And I think of how good Peeta is to me, and I smile again.

These shattered hearts will beat again. Because we have something to live for. We have a daughter who won't fear turning twelve. We have each other.

They say your dreams are so much better than reality.

I beg to differ.


	24. Chapter 24

**_A/N:_** Hello! Thank you for all of your reviews! I have big plans for the birth of their son in later chapters. Big plans you're probably going to hate me for, but I got the idea and knew it would be perfect to write. This chapter is a summary of Camellia's childhood. I wanted to get as much of her in before we moved on to their son. Enjoy & don't forget to review! :)

-Joy

* * *

_Cause sometimes that mountain you've been climbing_

_Is just a grain of sand_

_And what you've been out there searching for forever_

_Is in your hands_

_And when you figure out love is all that matters after all_

_It sure makes everything else seem_

_So small_

_Carrie Underwood - So Small_

* * *

I start to get the feeling that Camellia's growing up too fast. Even though I'm home with her everyday, but I feel like I'm missing out on something. It seems like only yesterday I was holding her in my arms for the very first time. The joy and delight of being a parent. I don't want her to grow up so fast. I want cherish her. I want to cherish those precious moments, gather them in my heart and lock them away. Lock them away where I keep everything precious to me. My important memories. The memories that left scars and that left beautiful impressions. She's my first-born. My baby girl, and she's growing before my very eyes. She'll be learning to walk soon. She's already crawling.

I remember that day. When Camellia crawled across the floor for the first time. Her small laugh rippling through the house as Peeta picked her up and gave her an approving grin. When she learned how to crawl, it brought me a mixture of happiness and sadness. She was getting bigger and bigger. I wanted to keep her as a baby forever. I yearned for the days when she would finally say mama. But I also didn't want them to come.

Peeta was overjoyed. She was crawling. She could crawl over to you now. Her eyes growing large and her laugh bringing a smile to your face. Her personality is starting to show. She's quiet at times. Reserved, like Peeta. But there are times when she stares intently at things and the look in her eyes remind me of my father's. The Everdeen determination in her blood. That makes me proud. That part of my father lives in my daughter.

She loves the outdoors. I'll take her outside in the early spring mornings when I water the plants and she'll sit in the grass. Watching Haymitch's geese. Squealing with delight and pure fascination. The fascination you would only find in an infant who wants to roam the world. Understand it's ways. Why the leaves fall in the Autumn. Or how the grass grows.

Haymitch has fallen head over heels for her. She's made him more tender. He still hasn't been drinking. He comes over and eats dinner with us and plays with Camellia. She loves Haymitch. She laughs when he comes through the door and crawls over to him.

She's gotten so big she doesn't have to sleep in Peeta and I's room anymore. She sleeps in her own crib. I start to think about the day when she'll outgrow her crib and we'll have to get her a bed. A big girl bed.

She's ten months old now. She can sit up and crawl. And she tries her best to talk. Mumbling things that make no sense. At least she's trying.

"Mama?" I'll ask her. Pointing toward my chest, hoping she'll finally say mama. She looks at my chest and then back up at my eyes and tries to conjure up something but ends up grunting and bouncing her back against her high-chair.

"Camellia?" I say. Pointing toward her chest. She gives me a quizzically glance and I let out a soft laugh as I pull out her food and spoon feed her. Peeta chuckles when she eats. How her mouth opens so wide for the spoon. She's always hungry and begging for food. Something she got from me, especially when it comes to food that tastes good.

Her dark hair turns out to be straight like mine. I was hoping it would turn out curly. Something that made her look like Peeta's daughter. Other than her blue eyes, she favors me.

Vicci has visited many times. Watching Camellia for me or coming over just to talk. Eddie retired recently, and Peeta was sad to see such a good worker go, but Cole, Eddie's son, is about twenty now, and loves the bakery. Peeta's been teaching him ever since he was a kid. Cole always took to Peeta, and he's almost became like a son to Peeta. I often wonder if Peeta would want a son of his own.

Johanna calls often. Asking about Camellia and cracking jokes, just like herself. I haven't heard from Gale in quite sometime, but we usually only see each other for the Annual Celebration. Annie has called often. Finnick Jr is growing up. He'll soon graduate. Annie told me the other day that she told him about Finnick. Everything. I told her she should come visit and bring Finnick Jr. I would love to tell him stories about his father. She said she would try her best.

I've kept up conversation with my mother. She calls often and we speak for hours. I finally feel like a daughter again. I finally have that relationship a daughter should have with her mother. She asks about Camellia all the time. She's become everyone's sweetheart.

It's when I'm sitting on the couch. Holding Camellia while she happily drinks her bottle. I'm trying to wean her off of it. She lets go of the bottle for a moment a shifts toward me.

"...Ma...ma..." She mumbles something that sounds like mama and I pause.

"Mama." I say. Pointing my finger toward my chest.

"Mama." She confirms. Saying it clearer this time. I clamp my hand over my mouth and she smiles. She said her first word!

"You said mama!" I say. Grabbing her small hands in my own. She laughs. Her mouth open wide with happiness and her blue eyes dancing. I kiss her nose and she squeals again.

She finally called me mama. The feeling is so surreal it's overwhelming. She's talking now. She's growing. She knows who I am. She knows I'm her mother.

"Can you say, daddy?" I say. Trying to build her vocabulary with new words. Peeta will be the happiest man alive if he comes home to a talking baby.

"D..a..da" She mumbles. I grin again tickling her belly again. Watching her laugh and squeal with joy. And I still can't get over the fact she can talk now.

And when Peeta arrives home she leaps into his arms and he grins. She loves her daddy's arms.

"Camellia, say daddy." I practiced with her all day. Peeta gives me a look and then Camellia says daddy and Peeta has the biggest grin on his face. A proud grin. He raises her form in the air and she laughs. That precious baby laugh I will never get tired of hearing.

Camellia went through this phase, where she grabbed everything she could. Wondering what would happen if she grabbed it. She constantly would clamp her fingers around the gold chain that holds my

pearl around my neck. Her eyes gave off the impression she was utterly amazed with just a necklace. In the fear of her breaking it, I had to keep it away from her. I would be heartbroken if it was broken. And when I would hold her without it on, she seemed confused I wasn't wearing it. I had worn that pearl everyday. She had seen me wear it everyday since she was born. I missed not wearing it either, but I soon latched it around my neck again. The absent of it's weight around my neck, nagging at me.

* * *

I hate time. I hate how it takes so much from us. How it mocks us with it's arms. Swinging around the numbers, torturing us with tomorrow. Time depresses me. Time binds my hands and gags me. I feel restrained by time, itself. I feel like time is the enemy. This enemy that wants to see us all grow old and wither away without a hand to hold. The clock sets itself in my belly and ignites a fire. A fire that I can't control and drives me to insanity.

Camellia took her first steps today.

She stumbled toward Peeta as he had his arms outstretched. Soon falling to her knees but getting up and trying again. She was walking. It pained me to watch her. I was so happy she was walking, but she was growing up so fast. I was already missing the baby days.

Peeta was so happy. And it joyed me to watch Camellia hold on to Peeta's fingers and walk across the floor. And it made my heart almost bust when she let go of his fingers and walked the short distance into my arms. That fear that ate away, disappeared in a split second when she was in my arms.

She already knew mountain air songs. I would sing her to sleep every night. It was peaceful. There was something about being able to sing to her again. To realse everything I had kept in over the years. The pain, heartbreak, and angst, felt completely dissolved when I would sing the song I sang to Prim, to my daughter. Watching her eyelids flutter and peacefully going to sleep.

She was going to be a year old soon. August was drawing near and so was the Annual Celebration. I already knew I didn't want to take Camellia with us. I didn't want her to be around the paintings and the memorials and the Capitol people. I wanted to keep her separated from that. I asked Vicci to watch her for me, and she gladly accepted.

We had decided to celebrate Camellia's birthday a week after the Annual Celebration. Her birthday landed on that Sunday.

I pulled on one of the dresses that Cinna designed and frowned. I had gained weight since I was pregnant with Camellia. I didn't care too much about it. I gather my bearings and leave Camellia with Vicci. I loop my arm around Peeta's and we walk to the Justice Building. Haymitch following.

"We've been going to this stupid thing for seventeen years. Isn't it time we just quit going?" Haymitch asks. Hitting a pebble with his foot. Peeta glances at me.

"I don't know, Haymitch. This is the only place where we can see everyone again." I say. I can't leave the District. This is the only time I get to see Gale, or Annie, or even Johanna. This is the only time I get to feel like people actually survived the war.

Haymitch keeps silent the rest of the walk into town.

It's the normal setting again. Chairs huddled around a platform and paintings of memorials on the walls. Refreshments in the corner and people socializing on the balconies. A lot of different people come every year for this event. Only some of the remaining Victors. Some people who served in the war and government officials.

Haymitch goes over to stir up conversation with people I've never met, and Peeta goes to get us something to drink.

Normally, music plays and people talk and then the cooks serve the food. These celebrations strangely remind me of the Victory Tour celebrations. Which sends shivers down my spine. Then Plutarch speaks. It's the normal thing, announcing new government news and what's going on in the Capitol. Plutarch walks on the stage by the time Peeta returns with two glasses of wine. He starts speaking of the new president. Paylor resigned a few years back. The new president seems like a good person. Although I still think war is lurking behind the corners. Peace will not last for long.

It gets so loud that I can barely hear Peeta speak, and he's right next to me. The music and people's voices mix. I feel someone tap my shoulder and I turn around. Finding a pink wig and the face of someone I haven't seen in years.

"Effie!" She never comes to these. I thought she was somewhere up on the Capitol. She's wearing a pink wig and something you would always see a Capitol citizen wear. She looks well, but time has taken a toll. It has on all of us.

"Katniss," She gives me an embrace and pulls back to give me a kiss on the cheek. She's still as perky as ever. But there's something different in her eyes. She gives Peeta hug.

"I heard that you were pregnant, but I didn't believe it for one second!" She says. Holding one of her fingers in the air.

"Well, I was. We had a little girl. Camellia." She sits down beside us and looks astonished that we actually have a child. And Peeta, being a father, pulls out a picture from his wallet. She stares in awe at the small photo and congratulates us. She goes on to talk about the Capitol and how everyone has recovered from the war and rebuilt. She tells that there are memorials and that all of the arenas have been destroyed. Peeta and I both sigh in relief.

Effie excuses herself when the cooks serve the first course. I instantly remember what I saw in Capitol food. Haymitch comes over and sits down, eating his food. And he looks sober. But I make Peeta give the wine glasses back to the man who serves the alcohol. In fear that it will make him desire it more. He's doing so good. I catch glance of Gale in the crowd and my stomach bundles up in a ball of nerves. I make note to speak with him after the meal is served and then second guess it when I see him ask for not one, but two glasses of alcohol. For himself. He's going to get drunk. That's not like Gale.

After the meal is served and everyone finishes eating, we're allowed to socialize until we leave. Plutarch comes and greets us. I still don't fully trust him.

And then I find Johanna in the crowd and she walks over.

"The last time I saw you, you were as big as a whale." She quips. Giving me a quick hug and Peeta one too. I laugh.

"I actually went into labor that night." I say. Her eyes grow wide and she laughs.

"Spare me the details."

Peeta laughs and I shoot him a glance that makes him laugh more and we all end up laughing.

Johanna looks well. Her hair has grown out and it stops at her collarbone. Her eyes look tired. I think we're all tired. But I'm glad to know she's well. It's nice to know you're not the only one who will go to their grave with the fear of war.

We end up leaving soon after speaking with Johanna. I never got to speak with Gale. After the meal was served he vanished. I should write him.

Haymitch's bids goodnight when we pass his house and tells us he'll see us in the morning. His geese make a ruckus as he climbs up the stairs.

We make it to our house and Vicci sits inside. She tells us Cam's asleep and I thank her for watching her and she says goodnight and leaves. I walk up the stairs and find Camellia asleep in her crib I quietly shut the door and inch my way into our bedroom and peel out of that wretched dress. Pulling on a pair of pants and a shirt of Peeta's. I trek down the stairs again and find Peeta in the kitchen. His suit coat hanging on one of the chairs. I pull out a knife from the drawer and a square of cheese.

"Katniss, we just ate!" Peeta looks at me and I laugh.

"Peeta, I know that." I say. Glancing down at that block of cheese again. Then I remember that day when Prim left out cheese for me and Gale on Reaping day. How important just cheese was. Because we didn't have much of it to spare. And I remember how young Prim used to be. Her blonde braids. And the pain of the knife slicing my finger makes me yelp in pain and Peeta stirs and comes over by my side.

"What happened?" He asks.

"I cut my finger."

Something happens to his eyes. Something that's not right. He steps back and turns his back toward me. Gripping the chair. I realize why. There's blood on my finger and there's a knife right beside me. And with the images still fresh in his mind from the Annual Celebration. He's bound to have a flashback. He was doing so good. He hadn't had a flashback in months. Almost two years.

I wrap a cloth around my finger and set the knife away from reach. Just in case. And I'm so thankful Camellia's alseep.

I walk up behind him and place my hand over his shoulder blade. His body tense under my touch. His knuckles start turning white because of his grip.

"Peeta," I whisper. Settling beside him. Cupping my hand over his tense one. He screws his eyes shut. Almost like he's in agony. And he is. There's no telling what he's seeing.

"Peeta, please." I plead. I hate it when he's like this. I hate that he went through this torture. I hate the Capitol for doing this to him.

His eyes open and his grip loosens on the chair. His eyes aren't black like I expected them to be, they're blue. And his pupils aren't large. He's calm. This wasn't one of his worst ones. He embraces me and I sigh in relief that's he's okay.

I hold him as we fall asleep that night.

* * *

Camellia's a year old today. Her blue eyes grow big at the small cake Peeta baked just for her. She smears the icing all over her mouth and I laugh. I guess you could say I'm completely amazed that we actually made it this far. We actually have a little girl who just turned a year old. We can raise her. We'll get through this. She'll grow up loved. She'll grow up knowing her parents would do anything for her.


	25. Chapter 25

**A/N**: Thank you all for your reviews. It's what keeps me writing. I hope you enjoy this chapter. I love you all! :)

-Joy

* * *

_This is a state of grace _

_This is a worth while fight _

_Love is a ruthless game _

_Unless you play it good and right _

_These are the hands of fate _

_You're my Achilles heel _

_This is the golden age of something good _

_And right and real_

_Taylor Swift - State Of Grace_

* * *

Camellia only grew bigger and bigger. Running around the house at the age of three. She was small framed and petite with her dark hair spilling around her shoulders. Talking more and more everyday. Playing with Haymitch's geese and finding her way into convincing Peeta to teach her how to bake. She always lugged around her favorite stuffed animal. A little bear that my mother sent for her. She never leaves the house without it. She can't sleep without it either. It's almost amusing, seeing how important that little bear is to her.

She loves Haymitch. She loves it when we trek over to his house in the morning to check on him. He's still sober. He always grabs Camellia in his arms when she comes barging in his front door. I never thought I would see a man like Haymitch, love a child so much.

She hates it when Peeta leaves for the bakery. Every morning he gets up and his footsteps wake her and she jumps out of bed, begging to go with her father. Of course, she can't go to work with him everyday, but I do take her when I can. She's grown accustom to Cole. He sneaks her cookies when he thinks I'm not looking. And we arrive home, with Camellia bouncing off the walls.

She's stolen my heart since the day she was born. But she reminds me why I love her so much when she notices I'm upset. I'll sit on the couch staring at my lap because I allowed the past to butt it's ugly head. She'll curl up beside me and wrap her tiny arms around my waist. And we'll sit there until she falls asleep. Braiding her thin hair. I'm constantly thankful she's here. My sign that life is not so cruel.

I decided not to take Camellia into the woods until she's older. Then again, I don't how she'll like hunting. There really is no reason to teach her, she's not starving, but I do want to teach her. Like my father taught me. And if she doesn't like to hunt, I at least want to teach her how to shoot. The pride of knowing I passed down archery to her.

She's so energetic, it's nice to have someone laughing in the house. A smile. She doesn't know pain, she doesn't know angst. All she knows is that she has two parents that love her and a grandfather like person, next door. Nothing has ever scarred her. And I hope nothing ever does, but that's senseless. Everyone gets scarred one way or another.

Camellia is selfless, even for a three year old. She got that from Peeta. And lately, since I've been feeling sick, she'll climb up in bed with me while Peeta's at the bakery. We'll talk about the flowers outside. The small things. What a three-year old wants to talk about. The toddler language.

I push back the hair out of her eyes and she curls into my side.

"Mama, can you tell me a story?" Her blue eyes meet mine and you can't refuse those eyes. Just like her father's.

"You know your daddy's better at stories than me, Cam." I say. Stifling my breath. Nausea hitting me for a moment and then passing. Peeta thinks I have the flu, he's probably right, I'm just too stubborn to go to a doctor.

"I know, but I like your stories too." Camellia says. I nod and try to conjure up some story in my head. I'm not too good at story telling. Peeta was always the one that remembered stories from his childhood to tell Camellia. And he made them so alive with his words. I often listened in. Laughing softly under my breath when the wolf got so frustrated because he couldn't blow the brick house down. How Peeta imitated the wolf and the sound of Camellia's laughter.

I think of a fairy tale I remembered from school, years ago, and tell it to Camellia. Her blue eyes growing big when the plot thickened. Laughing when I made a joke. But my favorite was when I finished the story and she told me she loved me. That makes every little wretched moment in the past, worth every second of it. Worth every single scar. Every single tear.

I hear the front door close.

"Daddy's home." I tell Camellia. She grins and darts up on her feet, running downstairs and I hear Peeta laugh and greet her.

"How's mama?" I hear Peeta ask.

"She still doesn't feel good." Camellia says. And then I hear Peeta's footsteps up the stairs and he comes to my side with Camellia on his hip. He lays his hand on my forehead.

"You don't have a fever." Peeta says. And then Camellia squirms off of his lap and runs across the hall. Coming back seconds later with her favorite teddy bear.

"Here mama, you can have him until you feel better." I smile for a moment. Her selflessness shining through.

"Thank you, honey. But he likes you." I say. Pulling the blanket around my shoulder. Making Peeta look even more concerned about me. Camellia smiles and then Peeta tells her to go play in her room and she quickly obeys. He settles back down beside me. His eyes full of concern.

"Katniss, really, what's wrong?" He asks. Pulling a strand of hair out of my face.

"I don't know. I feel nauseated."

"We should go see Dr. Stred."

"Peeta, she's a pregnancy doctor." I say. Rolling my eyes. Peeta purses his lips.

"She went to medical school, she can tell if someone has the flu or not." Peeta says.

I finally agree that he can take me tomorrow and he calls to make an appointment. Peeta gives me a look of disapproval when I retch into the toilet and lie and say I'm fine. Camellia acts the same way Peeta does. She stays by my side the rest of the day. She's only three, she doesn't understand she can catch whatever I have.

Peeta takes her downstairs when he notices I'm tired. Lately, Peeta will sit down and draw with Camellia. Pencils and paints strung out on the floor. It's nice to sit and watch them draw together. And I often wonder if we're spoiling her.

Morning draws near and I wake up just in time to not spoil the sheets with bile. Peeta stands in the bathroom doorway when I turn around. A concerned look in his eyes as I slowly turn on the shower faucet.

"I'm worried about you." He says. You can hear the desperation in his voice.

"We already agreed to go to the medical center today. I'm sure it's just the flu." I say, quietly. Turning to his gaze. And we just stand there for a moment. Locked in each other's sights. Peeta's eyes tracing over my form, trying to decipher why I won't get out of bed, why I'm retching three times a day.

If I knew why, I would tell him.

Peeta nods his head and treads down across the hall to wake Camellia. I climb into the shower and let the water wash away my burdens. I think of how fast time had passed. How long ago it actually was that summer night when we got to meet our daughter for the first time. The joy that overtook the fear and settled it. How much happiness she brings to our home. The grin that spreads across Peeta's face when he comes home to us. The face that makes your heart swell inside your chest Camellia makes when she wants something. How she stumbles into our bed in the dead of night, curling up in between because she had a bad dream. How she fits perfectly between our bodies like she was meant to be there all along. The simplicity of her embraces. How much I love her.

What did I do to deserve Peeta and a daughter? What did I do to deserve a happy life? After so many people, so much greater than me, should have had my life. A loving family.

I drowned in the blood of everyone I held dear. I went to war. I've watched life drain out of people's faces. I've watched young children die in the wretched name of entertainment. I've watched my only strand of hope, break under the pressure of wretched, no good, fools. Fools who only cared about themselves. Fools who didn't give a care if children died. Fools I see in my sleep every night. Fools that I wish I could have been there to watch them suffer when they died their terrible deaths. Fools that I know are rotting in hell.

I've grown too angry. I've grown too bitter. I try to think of other things as the warm water rolls over my body.

Annie called the other day. Telling me how Finnick Jr. graduated from high school. How he has decided to stay in District 4 and start a fishing business. Stay with Annie and help her. She told me he fancied a girl who hung around the beach. He always visited there, just like his father. And he saw her, dipping her toes into the water and struck up a conversation. Annie tells me they really like each other. I wouldn't doubt it. Well, Finnick Odair's son sure has the looks for any girl to fling themselves at him.

Why did Finnick have to die? Why did he have to lose his life for such a terrible cause; me. He lost his life because of me. Those stupid mutts were calling my damnable name. He had so much to live for; he finally got Annie back, she was pregnant with his son and he died. He died and there was nothing I could do. Nothing I could have done. I should have been the one eaten alive. I should have killed myself when I shot Coin. I could have, if Peeta's hand hadn't stopped me. I wanted to die. I wanted out. I had already lost Prim and myself. I had nothing to lose.

I think too much when I step into the fall of the water. I think too much and I end up growing angry. Angry with the past. Angry with what happened to the people I loved. The people that should have never left this earth. So angry that I end up losing the track of time and Peeta's voice, admitting Camellia's dressed and he needs to take a shower, let's me know I need to step out.

Peeta gives me a look of concern as I dry off. I roll my eyes and shrug him off. Sometimes, his concern is nice. Other times, it's tiring.

I pull on a pair of pants over my aching legs and a shirt over my aching arms and drop my pearl under said clothing. Pulling my hair to the side and braiding it. Walking across the hall to check on Camellia, who is trying her best to tie her shoe laces.

"Want some help?" I ask. Settling beside her and pulling her feet into my lap. Tying her shoes.

"You're going to be good for Haymitch, right?" I ask. Scooting her in my lap to braid her hair.

"Yes ma'am." She says, softly.

"Good girl." I say.

She loves it when I braid her hair. I think because I wear mine braided all the time, she likes her's braided. She reminds me of myself a little. Two dark braids barely brushing her shoulders with her thin toddler hair.

We told her last night that she would have to stay with Haymitch for the morning while Peeta and I went to the medical center. She understands I'm sick.

Peeta dresses and takes Camellia on his hip and we walk over to Haymitch's, watching Camellia grin as Haymitch picks her up and throws her in the air. She laughs and Peeta let's Haymitch know we'll be back in two hours.

We walk to the medical center in silence. The warm spring sun poking out from the clouds. The flowers starting to bloom again after a cold winter. We walk into the clammy, white hospital that makes me claustrophobic. Seating down in one of the hard chairs. I've been coming to this place for eighteen years, every three moths, and I still hate it. I hate how everyone acts like a robot. I hate how the walls feel like they're closing in on me.

I rub my hands nervously on my pants and lick my lips. Peeta's hand curling around mine. He senses when I'm nervous. I curl my fingers into his in return.

My name is called after a moment's time and Peeta asks if I want him to come with me.

"I'll be fine." I tell him. Walking into a wretched white room that makes my palms sweat while a nurse tells me Dr. Stred will be in shortly.

Over the years, Dr. Stred and I no longer have this doctor patient relationship. We can laugh and talk. She's been my doctor for eighteen years, and she's delivered my baby. We've gotten to know each other.

"How's Camellia?" She asks, first hand. Waving for me to sit down in one of the chairs.

"Oh, she's great." I say, smiling. Resting my hands in my lap. Dr. Stred nods and leans back in her chair. Scratching her temple with the top of her pen.

She asks why I'm here and I tell her my symptoms. Headaches, nausea, tiredness. She nods.

"I'm going to take some blood, okay?" I cringe for a moment. I hate needles. I hated District 13 for hooking me up to so many. I hated the fact a piece of metal was under my skin.

"Okay." My voice comes out uneven and I swallow the lump in my throat. I screw my eyes shut as the needle plunges into my forearm and the nurse leaves with the syringe in hand.

"All right, the tests won't come back for a few days, so I will call you when they come back, which should be the day after tomorrow." Dr. Stred excuses me and I gladly leave. Finding a nervous and confused Peeta in the waiting room. I tug him along as we walk out the door.

"What happened?" He asks. I run my fingers nervously over the bandage that marks where the needle plunged into my arm and clear my throat.

"They had to take blood and she'll call me when the test results come back." I say. Peeta nods and intertwines his fingers with mine.

"It's going to be okay." Peeta reassures

But what if it isn't? What if something's wrong? What if I'm more sick than I thought I was? I can't leave Camellia and Peeta. It's not possible.

We pick up Camellia from Haymitch's and trek back home. Camellia instantly runs to her room to play and I climb back into bed. The weight of worry bearing down on me heavily.

I burrow down into the blankets. I should know what's wrong with me. I should know. Why don't I know? My mind jumps to a thousand different conclusions. Everything possible you could think of. I end up panicking and having to crawl out from under the blankets because of the lack of oxygen.

"Stop worrying." I hear before I find it's speaker. I know it's Peeta.

"How can I not worry? What if I'm really sick?" I ask. Peeta settles beside me and picks up my hand in his.

"Don't think like that." Peeta says. Rising to give me a kiss on the mouth. A reassuring, comforting kiss. I replay his assurance the rest of the day in my head. It's nothing to worry about, I'll be fine. It's not like I've never cheated death before.

But my dreams are not too reassuring that night. I see everything scream in my sleep. I wake up with a sweat and I'm shaking, paralyzed with fear, I make a small yell when my eyes fly open. A yell Peeta didn't hear because he's too much of a heavy sleeper. Peeta's warm beside me. His breath tickling my ear. I gather my surroundings and settle back into the blankets. Trying to calm myself. I know Peeta's safe, but I need the reassurance Camellia is. So I quietly crawl off the bed and pad across the hallway. Seeing Camellia hugging her favorite bear and her dark hair spilling around her face. I scoot down beside the bed frame and tuck the blanket around her shoulders. Leaving a kiss on her temple. But I'm not as quiet as I thought I was. Her eyes groggily open and she holds her arms out for me and I gladly take her in my arms. Her small hands curling around my neck and her legs forming around my waist.

"You wanna get in the bed with me and daddy, tonight?" She nods and I pad across the hallway again. Laying her down beside Peeta, and she curls into his side as I lay down. He wakes to cover Camellia and I with his arm and the memory of the nightmare fades.

When the light shines through the windows, Camellia's warmth is still by my side. And a note from Peeta lays on his pillow.

_I'll see you this afternoon. I know you had a bad night so I didn't wake you. Love you. _

_-Peeta_

I lay the note back down and return my gaze to Camellia. I pull her dark hair away from her face and give her a kiss. She sleeps like an angel. Peaceful and undisturbed. I never thought I could love another person as much as I love my daughter. Camellia stirs for a moment and opens her eyes. Those big blue eyes.

"Good morning," I whisper.

"Where's daddy?" She asks. In that precious toddler voice I love to hear.

"He went to work, Cam."

She nods and we eventually crawl out of bed and I fix her breakfast. At least I'm able to fix my daughter something to eat without getting sick.

The phone rings sometime later. And I wonder who's calling. Dr. Stred said the test results wouldn't come in until tomorrow. But I answer it anyway.

"Katniss, it's Dr. Stred. Your test results came back early." She says. She sounds cheerful, maybe it's not too bad. I swallow the lump in my throat and hold the receiver tight in my grip. Preparing for the worst. Preparing for her to tell me I have some in curable disease. I worry too much. "So, here's the thing Katniss. You're not sick. You're just pregnant."

Pregnant? How is that possible? How did I not know? How did I go around with my normal life and not know I was carrying a child? Peeta's child. I nervously glance over at Camellia. Peeta and I never talked about more kids. We were happy with Camellia.

"But I was on prevention?" I ask. My voice breaking. A million waves of emotions hitting me full force.

"Sometimes, preventions fails. It's not trustworthy all the time. See, you didn't know if you were pregnant, because the prevention already makes you miss your cycle and the pregnancy made you miss your cycle, so you couldn't tell."

"How far along?"

"I would estimate about ten weeks. Maybe more." Dr. Stred replies. I nod and thank her and hang up the phone, sitting down in one of the kitchen chairs.

How did I not know? I have all the symptoms I did when I was pregnant with Camellia and I didn't take one second to think if I was pregnant again. A child is such a precious thing and I didn't even know I was carrying a child.

I don't notice I'm crying until Camellia comes over and crawls in my lap and asks why I'm crying. I can't tell her. I need to tell Peeta first. So I just tell her I'm fine and tell her to go play in her room. She obeys and I'm left to sulk in my thoughts. We've barely made it out of the woods with Camellia and now we have another child to raise, one that we could really screw up. Another child with the chances of miscarriage. With the chances of death. I can't handle death. Death is such a terrible thing. Something I see in my sleep every night and I pray I never see it again.

I'm pregnant.

We have another baby on the way and there's no stopping it.

Hours creep by and Camellia's on the couch, asleep. And I'm still at this table. Thinking of how I let this happen. The front door closes and Peeta comes into to greet me.

"Did Dr. Stred call?" He asks. I nod and pull his hand along to the back door. Out of ear shot. I wrap my arms around his neck and try to stir up some courage. And I say "I'm pregnant." so quiet I think I might have to repeat it. He freezes for a moment and draws back to look me in the eye. I nod as his eyes ask the question his mouth can't form. A smile creeping on his lips as he embraces me again and laughs. But he notices my worry and places his hand under my chin.

"This baby will be loved. And I don't know anyone else who loves as passionately as you." Peeta whispers. I nod and he embraces me again.

We gave birth to Camellia and have been raising her ever since. She's given us more joy then we could ever imagine. We can have another one. We can have another baby that will bring us just as much joy. This baby will be loved.

We decided we'll tell Camellia later. The news of the baby still settling on us. We crawl into bed that night in each other's arms. Peeta's hand settling on the small of my back. A unmistakable smile tugging on his lips. And I can't help the one that tugs on mine either. my mind is already picking out names.


	26. Chapter 26

**_A/N:_**I got so many reviews for the last chapter & that just makes me so happy. This upcoming chapter is something I've been waiting to write for sometime now and I'm so happy to write it. There's so much raw emotion and conflict and pain and happiness and I live for writing that. The combination of so many emotions.

Enjoy this chapter & don't forget to tell me what you think. :)

-Joy

_Sorry for any typos or grammar mistakes._

* * *

_In this needle and haystack life_

_I found miracles there in your eyes_

_It's no accident we're here tonight_

_We are once in a lifetime_

_Needle And Haystack Life - Switchfoot_

* * *

We decided to tell Camellia in the lightest of ways. She was only three, she didn't need details. I hoped she didn't ask questions that lead to needed details.

It was early one morning Sunday morning. The District was quiet and the birds were singing while the fog settled across the plain. The sun rising in the most beautiful way. I loved mornings. I loved the quietness of the morning. The rising sun and the voices of my family. Peeta leaned against the counter, holding his cup of coffee in his grip, giving me a considerate glance.

He was overjoyed about the baby, and so was I. I already missed Camellia's baby days and I was happy to be able to spend them again with another baby. Although the fear that haunted me with Camellia, didn't leave me. I was still terrified that I would miscarry or something horrid would happen. But I quickly tried to ignore it and focus on the fact that I was healthy and so was the baby.

We didn't tell Camellia right away, actually we waited until I felt it was the right time to tell her. I had been pregnant for 14 weeks when we sat down and told her she would have a brother or sister soon.

She came running down the stairs with her hair flying in every direction and landed in Peeta's arms. Giving her father a good morning kiss and me one too. Another reason I loved mornings, those precious good morning kisses. She settled down in her chair and I laid down a plate of eggs and Peeta sat beside her.

"Cam, how do you feel about a brother or sister?" I asked, setting down a glass of milk by her plate. Her eyes didn't leave mine and they grew large.

"Like Pip has a sister?" She asked. Pip was a little girl next door that Camella had friended. They played out in the backyard, climbing trees and laughing. Pip had two younger sisters that Camellia often spoke of.

"Yes. Remember how Pip's mama had a baby last summer?" She nodded and stabbed an egg with her fork. Peeta kept silent, watching me. Silence took over when the reality of this baby set it. I was about to tell my daughter she's going to have a sibling. This baby was real, it always has been, since the day I found out I was pregnant, but it was so real now. All those questions soared through my mind. What if I wasn't as lucky as I was with Camellia this time? At all costs, I would put my child's life before my own. Even if it meant losing my own. Would I want to leave Peeta to raise an infant and a toddler on his own? No. Never. I want to be there. But if it came down to it, and my children's lives were at stake, I would do anything to protect them in a heartbeat. My own flesh and blood.

"Mama's going to have a baby, too." Peeta chimed in. Noticing I was staring at my plate too long. Camellia glanced from Peeta to me and jumped out of her chair and climbed into my arms.

"When will it be here?" I laughed and folded my arms around her waist. Her blue eyes gave off the expression of happiness and curiosity. A look you would see in someone who never had a sibling before.

"It'll be awhile, Cam." I gave her a kiss and she quickly finished her breakfast and ran upstairs to change - Pip had invited her to play - and came rolling down the stairs again, giving us a hug and I watched her enter Pip's house. I had gotten to know Pip's mother. She was a nice woman with three girls.

"I think she took it pretty well." Peeta laughed for a moment and I nodded. She did take it better than I thought she would. But Camellia isn't a person to become jealous. She takes after Peeta in that department.

Everyday Camellia was invested in asking new questions about the baby. When it was going to be here, would it be a boy or a girl, what it's name will be. I knew how to answer some of her questions. Other's were impossible to know. According to Dr. Stred, the baby is due in October. We made visits to the medical center regularly. We decided for the sex of the baby to be a surprise. And I wanted a home birth, once again. There was a far away look in Dr. Stred's eye when I told her so. Something she wasn't telling me, and it scared me to death.

Something in the back of my mind was nagging at me. Nagging at me and telling me something was different this time. Something was extremely different. But I pushed it out of my mind.

I eventually told my mother when she called. I knew she was happy, and she made note that she wanted to come down for the birth. I told her that she was welcome anytime. She told me she would come down in late September. Roughly three weeks before my due date. Give or take.

Haymitch came striding in one day, Camellia greeting him at the door. Peeta was working at the bakery that day and I was so tired. So I took advantage of the fact Haymitch was there to watch Camellia.

He found out about the baby shortly after we told Camellia. He made a joke but you could tell in his eyes, he was happy. A child held so much, for us, at least. A child held hope in this wretched world. Joy and life was written all over a child, and that's exactly what we needed.

The worry and fear of something going wrong with this child, took over me and haunted me for days, weeks, and months. I felt helpless in every way. Fear placed itself inside of my chest and brought me physical pain. My chest felt like it was caving in at times. I just wanted this baby healthy and alive. Wanted to hear it's cries when it enters the world. I want to see Peeta hold his child for the first time. And I want to see Camellia meet her brother or sister. That's all I wanted. I just wanted to hold this child in my arms, and know that he or she was okay. Breathing, alive.

I got so afraid I made Peeta promise something I knew scared him.

It was late one evening. We had already put Camellia to bed and settled in bed ourselves. Peeta rolled over to give me a kiss, but I halted him.

"Promise me something?" I ask. Settling my hand over his.

"Anything,"

"If anything goes wrong, worry about the baby, not about me." I lay his hand over my slightly expanding belly. Peeta's eyes narrow and he shakes his head. "Promise me, Peeta."

"Nothing is going-"

"Promise me." He finally nods his head.

"I promise." He confirmed. Brushing his thumb across my stomach and drawing lazy circles, something I've grown to enjoy.

Maybe it was mother's intuition. Or maybe it was just fear getting the best of me, but I needed Peeta's promise. I needed to know that he would protect this baby in all circumstances if I could not. I just needed the reassurance.

I did trek out to the woods. Desperately in need of peace. I left Camellia with Haymitch and walked out into the woods. The sun bright and warm. The beauty of summer in the air. The birds singing and I decided to trek out to the lake for the first time in a long while. I stayed close on the path I always took, I didn't take a new route or try anything crazy. I was carrying a child and I didn't want to get lost and worry Peeta.

The lake was beautiful this time of year. The sun cascading on the water and making it look like glass. The birds caring for their young and the wind making the trees sway. I settled in the grass and watched the birds swim across the water.

I instantly thought of my father. I could hear his voice now, teaching me how to swim in this very lake. His laugh when I splashed him and his smile when I learned to swim on my own. The security knowing if I drowned he would save me. And my only wish was that he was here to tell me how to raise my own children. Because I felt helpless. I didn't know if I was raising them right and I didn't know if I would raise the one that's on the way right. Part of me hoped this baby was a boy. I wanted a baby that looked like his father. A blue-eyed, pale baby with blond curls. I could picture him now. Baking with his father and playing with his sister and it only scared me more.

My hand flew to my belly when I felt a stirring sensation. I knew it was just the baby, moving. But the fear that I felt a thousand times before came back strong and pain seized my chest in the most agonizing way. This baby depended on me for everything it needed. The baby needed me and I was so afraid I would fail.

The only thought that stopped the tears was Camellia.

Camellia playing in the meadow and Peeta running up behind her and carrying her off in his arms. The sound of their laughter mixing together in the air. The sun setting just like it was in on the mural in the nursery. Where our children were safe. The image of four silhouettes walking across the green grass of the meadow.

We survived so long ago and I know we can survive again. We have to. I have to be strong enough for this baby. I have to be strong enough for my family.

I thought this pregnancy would be easier. The same fear still attacks me every night, every day. But Peeta's there to wrap his arms around my frame and whisper reassurances in my ear. And Camellia brings a smile to my face every day. Her curiosity getting the best of her and she rests her palms on my ever growing abdomen. She's so excited for the baby to be born and to meet her new brother or sister. I remember when my mother was pregnant with Prim. How excited I was. How excited my father was.

I remember the day of the reaping. Sitting with Gale. Telling him I never wanted kids. I didn't know the joy they brought you. I didn't know how special they were. How my life would turn out. I wouldn't give them up for the world. I don't regret where I ended up, not at the least.

We celebrated Camellia's 4th birthday. Peeta bought her a paint set and she was so excited for him to teach her. My mother sent her a new dress she squealed over. I rummaged through the boxes that were full of the past looking for something to give her. I knew there would be a day when she would ask about our past and I wanted to give her something she would cherish. I knew she was only four and it wouldn't make much sense, but I felt like something was in these boxes.

I came across the locket that was over twenty years old. The mockingjay that I wore, replicated on it. Peeta's token. Opening it to find the face of my mother and Prim and the boy that I found in the woods. My beautiful little duck. Laughing. Tears rolled down my face before I could stop them and I wept on the wooden floor surrounded by cardboard boxes full of the things I kept secret.

I was seventeen years old when this was given to me. I had the world on my shoulders and the threat of death on everyone I loved. I just knew I wouldn't survive. I hoped people would forget me. I never wanted to be the symbol of the rebellion. I just wanted to run away and not be asked questions.

If you asked seventeen year old Katniss Everdeen where she would be in twenty years, I'm sure she would have questioned you. I'm sure she would have back pedaled and probably told you she didn't plan to be alive in twenty years. If you told her she would be married, a mother and a child on the way, she would have probably kicked you in the shin. I guess it's because I'm not Katniss Everdeen. When I look in the mirror, I don't see that girl. And maybe that's for the best. Katniss Everdeen was bitter, cold and dismissive. Years of being around Peeta, have softened me. I'm not who I was.

When I look in the mirror, I see Katniss Mellark. Wife and mother. Not the symbol of the rebellion.

I carefully removed Gale's picture from the locket. He had no part in my daughter's life. I left the other side empty, she could fill it when she's older with whoever she wanted. Leaving my mother and Prim. And I pulled it out on her birthday.

"This is a mockingjay." I said, tracing my fingers of the design of the bird. She took it in her palm and smiled. She loved the mockingjays. We would go outside and I taught her how they would repeat the tune you sang to them. I flipped open the locket. "This is grandma and my little sister. She died a long time ago. But I want you to wear this, okay?" She nodded and I latched the necklace around her neck. "Beautiful." I whispered. Giving her a kiss on the forehead.

"How did your sister die?" Camellia asked. Giving me a sad look with her blue eyes. I swallowed my tears and I felt Peeta's hand brush my back. His presence behind me.

"I'll tell you that when you're older." I said. She nodded and I would have picked her up if my belly allowed. She smiled once more and ran up the stairs to carry her gifts to her room. I turned around to find Peeta's eyes trained on mine. I knew what he was thinking.

"I didn't even know you still had that." He admitted. I rubbed my eyes with my palms and sat down.

"I found it a few days ago, and I thought it would be nice to give to her." I said. Peeta nodded and his lips brushed my forehead. "We'll tell her one day." My words came out in a sigh and Peeta painfully nodded.

* * *

It was the middle of September when my mother was on her way. She called a few days ago to tell me she was catching a train to 12 in a few hours and told me not to wait for her at the train station, something about how I should rest. I reluctantly agreed.

So Peeta took Camellia and left me waiting at home. I paced the floor for what felt like hours. Holding the small of my back and my other hand on my belly. Something I did often. Until I heard the door open and Camellia's familiar footsteps. And my mother standing in the doorway, watching her pregnant daughter pace the floor.

"Mom," I sighed as I embraced her. (Which was difficult with this stomach of mine.) She drew back and smiled at me.

"I missed you. All of you. And my, how Camellia's grown." She grinned as Camellia stood by Peeta. I looked back to find Camellia smiling and she was still holding that bear she never left the house without.

My mother looked well. She was still the same mom I always knew, and she seemed happy. Knowing she was about to meet her second grandchild and she got to spend time with her first grandchild. Camellia loved her and they often trekked outside to water the flowers while I sat on the porch.

"Whatever happened to Buttercup?" My mother asked, twirling a flower Camellia had given to her inbetween her fingers. Her eyes telling me she missed Prim so much it hurt. I knew that feeling well.

"He came back when I first came back to twelve. Then after about nine years since Peeta and I married, I found him outside by the back door. He died in his sleep. He was old." I missed that old cat. I really did. My mother's face slacked and I knew she was heartbroken he died. I was too.

It was the end of September. My mother had been staying with us for two weeks now. And Camellia was having a fantastic time with her grandmother. I was happy she was here too. It helped cease the fear of something going wrong with the baby.

I got up this morning and Peeta went to work. My mother insisted on fixing breakfast and Camellia happily drew while I folded clothes. I started thinking about baby names. Peeta and I really hadn't gave much thought to it. I had suggested the name Linden to Peeta. Linden is a type of tree, known to be sturdy and strong. Peeta and I both liked it. So we settled on Linden if it was a boy and if it was a girl, we would name her Aster. A beautiful purple flower.

At least we have the name covered.

Peeta arrived home for dinner and I excused myself. I wasn't very hungry and that worried my mother and Peeta. I told them I was going to bed early tonight. I hadn't felt well all day, so I made my way up to bed and quickly fell asleep. I woke up sometime later to a stabbing pain in my stomach. And I was instantly afraid. Peeta was asleep, but I couldn't help the sound that came out of my mouth when I found the sheets soaked with blood.

I'm not losing this baby. I will not let this child slip through my fingers.

Peeta stirred and instantly came to my side. "What's going on?" He asked frantically. I heard my mother's tread on the hallway and the light illuminated the room. Peeta stood up and came over to my side of bed and I sat there, gripping my stomach as the pain grew to the degree that made me cry. I didn't even notice my mother was there until I opened my eyes.

"She's hemorrhaging." I heard. I screwed my eyes shut and gripped Peeta's arm as I cried out in pain. Why is this happening? All I could do was plead with fate and beg that death spare my child.

"Peeta, listen to me." I opened my eyes to find my mother speaking to Peeta. Her eyes full of dread and agony. She's a doctor, she knows what's happening. Peeta's face was more terrified than I had seen in years. "You're going to have to take her to the medical center, if she keeps bleeding we'll lose both of them, Peeta." I bit my lip and trap the sob in my throat. My mother comes by my side.

"Katniss, listen to me carefully. I know you're in pain, but if we don't get you help, you'll lose the baby." I nodded and gripped Peeta's neck as he slid his arms under my frame and held me against his chest. I laid my forehead against his collarbone as the pain intensified. I heard my mother telling Peeta she'll meet him at the medical center and she'll take care of Camellia.

Obviously, we couldn't walk to the medical center, but Peeta did have a truck from the bakery he often used to make deliveries and he carefully seated me in the passenger seat. I caught his arm and looked him dead in the eye.

"Remember your promise, Peeta. Don't forget about your promise." I plead, tears rolling down my face. His eyes are full of fear as he nods.

Everything happened in a blur. Like I wasn't even there. I was just an innocent bystander watching it all unfold. Watching Peeta carry me through the doors of the medical center and nurses rushing to his side at the sight of a pregnant woman in his arms. I couldn't even hear what he was saying. All I could hear was the ringing of my pain and the screams of the people in my nightmares. I saw Peeta's eyes never leave mine and his hand pulled away from my grasp as they carried me away.

My only thought is that might have been the last time I'll hold his hand. And then I fade into darkness.


	27. Chapter 27

_**A/N:**_ I worked my freakin butt off on this chapter, guys. This took weeks of note taking. Whew, okay, go read.

-Joy

* * *

_You're the only thing I know_

_Like the back of my hand_

_And I can't breathe without you_

_But I have to breathe without you_

_But I have to_

_Breathe - Taylor Swift _

* * *

Peeta's point of view.

* * *

_Restless_. That was the only word that could describe how I felt. Pacing back in a white hallway while I twisted my hands, desperate to rid myself of the blood; Katniss' blood. I hated the way it dried on my skin. I hate the feeling of knowing she was off in a room and I couldn't get to her. I hated that this was a time she needed me most and I wasn't there.

Is she okay? Is the baby okay?

Those were the only two questions I desperately needed answers to and I feel like I am going to go insane.

She made me promise. She made me promise her I would make sure this baby is okay. I swore to her I would. I can't let her down. But there isn't any way I can make sure the baby is okay. I'm restricted to this hallway until some doctor can come tell me what's going on. And I swear the walls are closing in. Every one of the walls is slowly inching toward me until it suffocates me. I can just feel the flames lick my legs. This is how torturing this is. My wife and child may not even be alive at this very moment. I clinch the railing that spreads across the hospital until my knuckles turn white. If Katniss dies, I won't be able to face my daughter. I won't be able to face another day. I'll lose myself and go completely insane. This is not how it's supposed to end. It can't.

As I hunch over in one of the chairs, fidgeting with my hands again, one of the nurses comes holding a bag.

"Is she okay?" I ask, instantly. Rising to my feet.

"One of the doctors will come speak to you shortly. Here's your wife's belongings, we had to take them off for her surgery." And she walks away. Surgery? I look down at my watch and realize I've paced this hallway for over two hours. Plenty of time for someone to come tell me what's going on with my wife. I dismiss it and go through the bag.

A clear, plastic bag holds her pearl necklace and her wedding band. I take out the necklace and run it through my fingers. I remember why I gave her this. My last gift. I wanted her to save herself and leave me behind. I wanted to save her. I wanted her to go home and have a good life and forget about me, no matter how much it hurt. And I realize exactly what I wanted in the arena is the same thing she wants for our child. That's why she made me promise, she was sacrificing herself for our baby. She wanted our baby to have life, no matter the cost to hers. I plan on making sure both of them are well.

I slip the necklace back into the bag and tuck the bag in my pocket. Rising to my feet again to pace the floor. Anxiety walks the hallway with me. Dreading the moment when one of the doctors comes walking down this very hall. I can only hope it's news that won't send me over the edge.

I churn my head to find Katniss' mother, Camellia, and Haymitch making their way through the doors. Camellia runs towards me and I squat to get on her level and her arms wrap around my neck.

"Is mama okay?" She whispers.

"Mama's going to be fine." My voice comes out uneven and shaky but I kiss her forehead anyway. Maybe saying it will help me believe it.

"I'm sorry, but they both refused to stay home. Here is some clothes to change into. I'm going down there myself." Katniss' mother states. Handing me a sack of clothes and walks toward the doors the separate the hallways.

"They won't allow you down there." I say.

"I'm a doctor, they have to." She responds. And slips through the doors. Haymitch gives me a sad glance and we sit down again.

"What's happening?" He actually sounds like he cares, which is new. I settle Camellia on my knee and drop the sack on the floor.

"I'm guessing she went into labor. And she's almost four weeks before her due date, so that means the baby is premature. She was hemorrhaging, so that's not a good sign either. I don't know, they won't tell me anything. All I know is that she went through surgery." I rest my elbow on the arm of the chair and push my fingers into my temple and exhale. I use my free hand to hold Camellia on my lap.

"She's going to be fine. She's a fighter." Haymitch says. I nod and anchor his words in my soul. She's a fighter. She'll be okay.

We sit there for the next hour and Camellia falls asleep on my chest, which disables me from pacing, which makes me nervous. I focus on my breathing and try to remember how Katniss' laugh sounds in my mind. Her smile. Then I see Dr. Stred walking down the hall and I carefully hand Camellia's slumbering body to Haymitch and rise to my feet. Desperate for news. Desperate for the word that the most important person in my life is okay.

I jog toward Dr. Stred and meet her halfway in the hallway. She gives me a smile and I urge,

"Please tell me she's okay."

"Okay, listen carefully because a lot is going on." I nod. "Katniss went into labor too early, she started hemorrhaging and that affected the baby. By the time you got her here, she had already lost a lot of blood. We had to do an emergency surgery and save the baby. Your son is stable."

"Son?" I ask. A son. I have a son.

"Yes, a son. Now, he's a month premature, so he is in the NICU, and he'll have to stay there until he is strong enough. Now, Katniss however, Peeta, she lost a lot of blood. There's no easy way to say this," I pause for a moment. Preparing for the worst. My right finger dances over my wedding band.

"She's unconscious."

That's when my heart stops for a moment. That's when everything inside me breaks. She may never wake up. She may never get to meet our son. I fight the tears. Because really I just want to go outside to scream and curse the ground.

"She should wake up soon. It's a matter of time."

"When can I see them?" I ask. My voice breaks and drop my gaze to the floor.

"Katniss is being transferred to the ICU for supervision and you can go see your son anytime you would like." I nod and she dismisses herself. I don't move. In fact I grip the railing again and clench my jaw. Angry at fate for doing this. Angry at myself for every reason I can think of. I compose myself and walk back over to Haymitch.

"The baby is fine." I say. Sitting down again. And holding back the need to swear. "Katniss is unconscious." I hunch over and rub my eyes with my fingers. Wondering if there was something I could have done to stop this from happening. Something I could have done differently.

"She'll be okay." Haymitch says. Quietly, in the fear of waking Camellia. I hear the footsteps of Katniss' mother and I lean up to meet her gaze.

"Dr. Stred told me all of it." I say in a cold manner.

"I'm going to take Camellia and Haymitch home. You go see Katniss. I'll be back later." She says. I nod and they quickly gather their bearings.

"She'll be all right, Peeta." Mrs. Everdeen says in my ear. And I give one last kiss to Camellia and grab the sack of clothes and walk through the winding hallways of the hospital. I walk through the doors and I ask the nurse for Katniss' room number.

"36" she responds, cooly.

I stop at the door before opening it. Knowing I'm going to find Katniss in her weakest state, and that hurts me more than physical pain ever could. I inhale and slide the door knob open.

Katniss lays on her back, wires hooked up to her arms and hands. Machines beep, letting me know she's alive. Her dark hair is fanned around her head and I drop the sack and walk to her side. Picking up her limp hand in mine. The belly that once protected our child from the outside world is empty, and I know she is going to hate herself for not hearing his first cries. But I already hate myself enough for the both of us.

I remember when I woke up to Katniss unconscious in the cave. How I dragged myself over to her and pulled her head out of the pool of blood and rubbed warmth back in her feet. How she saved my life and I can't save her now.

She looks so lifeless. And I've never seen Katniss lifeless. I wish she knew how beautiful she really is. And I know this pregnancy was hard on her, but I still rolled over every morning and I swear she got more beautiful everyday.

I bring the back of her hand to my lips and pray she'll open her eyes and she'll tell me she loves me and asks about Camellia. And I would laugh. But her eyes don't open and I watch my tears drop onto her hand.

"We have a son, Katniss." I whisper. I know she can't hear me, but I say it anyway. "Linden it is. Linden Mellark. You always pick out the best names." My voice comes out shaky but I could care less. Katniss has seen me in a much worse state. But then again, I don't know. I've never sat by her bedside, praying if there is a God, to let her wake up. Please. Let her wake up.

I spend the next hour by her side. Gripping her hand and watching her chest rise and fall. Then I rub my eyes with the back of my hands and stand up. Leaving a kiss on her forehead, I compose myself and walk to the NICU part of the hospital. I stop in front of the glass and watch all of the babies in their cribs. Wondering which one is my son.

"Can I help you?" I hear from a distance and I turn around to find a nurse.

"Um, yes." I rub my neck with my hand, nervous habit. "I'm looking for the Mellark baby. His mother is Katniss Mellark."

"Are you family?"

"Yes, I'm the baby's father." I wonder why she didn't recognize me. Maybe it's time, I am no longer the 16- year old victor.

"I'm sure you already know about your wife and son's condition, correct?" The nurse asks, leading me past all the babies and through another door.

"Yes, I just left the ICU." I say.

"Okay, follow me." She leads me through a doorway and instructs me to wash my hands, thoroughly. I do so and arrive in a room with plastic boxes. Expect they're not boxes, they're incubators that hold very small babies. Worry washes over me.

She leads me to an incubator against the wall, with the name, Mellark written on the front of it. And a baby with blond curls, asleep, lays inside.

"He's a real fighter, Mr. Mellark. I was one of the nurses that assisted in the caesarean. Your wife is too." She says, kindly. I nod.

"Thank you." I guess the name Linden was prophetic. Strong and sturdy.

"When he gets a few days older, you can hold him. And if all goes as planned, you can take him home by next week. Until then, when you want to visit, wash your hands, because this is a sterile unit, and let a nurse know you're here." I nod and note the instructions. She excuses herself and I stay by the incubator, wishing I could hold him. But he's so small and fragile.

He looks like he belongs with the merchant kids. Pale and blond. He's still as I reach through the opening that allows parents to be able to touch their children since they can't hold them. He turns his head slightly as my finger brushes over his small hands. I've never been so amazed with life. The way it can take but it gives back so much. I am thankful, because my son is safe and Katniss is stable. She's not dying. The doctors are doing all they can and she will come back, she always does.

After minutes turn into hours I quietly slip out of the NICU and find that Camellia will be in bed any minute. She hates it when I don't say goodnight, so I find a phone and call the house. Mrs. Everdeen answers.

"Did you go see the baby?" she asks, gently.

"Yeah. He's okay. I'm going to stay here until Katniss wakes up." I won't leave until she does, I think. "I wanted to tell Camellia goodnight." I hear shuffling and then Camellia's small voice comes over the line.

"Daddy?"

"Hey, honey. Did grandma tell you that you have a little brother?" I try to sound happy, for her. And a part of me is, I have a newborn son, but the other half of me is dying.

"Is he okay?" She sounds so small. She sounds almost as fragile as Linden is.

"He's fine. I'm going to bring them home soon, I promise." I will bring them home, if it's the last thing I do. "I love you, pumpkin. Sleep tight."

"I love you too, daddy." and the line clicks and I'm left leaning against a wall. Desperate for sleep but too afraid to face my nightmares. I feel wounded. I've been shot in the heart and I'm left hanging on to a thread of hope, a thread is all I have left.

I try to think about the good times. The days when Katniss and I would laugh so hard we couldn't breath. The day so long ago when we played in the snow. Katniss' laugh. Katniss' smile. But they all make me yearn for her even more and I'm still suffering when I kneel by her side. Brushing my thumb over the back of her hand. I don't even feel like myself. I feel like half of me is walking the paths that Katniss warned me not to take when she took me to the woods with her. The paths long and eerie. A darkness that prowls at you and doesn't stop until your bleeding and dying.

I soon find sleep in one of the chairs and hope that when I wake, this will all be a bad dream. I'll wake up home, with Katniss by my side, awake. And Linden, asleep in his crib. Not premature. He'll be healthy.

But I wake up to a cold hospital in the morning. My neck aching from how I slept on it and Katniss, still limp in her bed. I watch as one of the nurses reposition tubes and wires. Clicking buttons on a monitor and giving me a kind smile.

"Mr. Mellark, you should go home and get some rest." She says, quietly. I shake my head.

"I'm fine. And please, call me Peeta." She nods and strides out of the door.

I run my fingers through my hair and rise to my feet. Turning to the bathroom that is adjoined to Katniss' room and slipping a fresh shirt over my head. Then treading over to the side of the bed to place a kiss on Katniss' forehead. And I walk out to the cafeteria. I remember how much the food here taste like District 13's food and I cringe. I hated District 13. I just want to go home. I want to go back and work at the bakery like I normally do. I called Cole last night to tell him what was going on. He agreed to take over the bakery for me.

Once I finish I decide to go see Linden. So I walk to the NICU unit and wash my hands and find one of the nurses that greet me.

"Your son did really well last night. He's stronger than most premature infants." I crack a smile, that helps me feel a little better. I know Linden is well. He's going to be fine, I just have to worry about Katniss. "Have you picked out a name for him? All the nurses that take care of this unit have just fallen in love with him overnight." I laugh for the first time in hours. My son, already picking up the ladies and he's only a day old.

"Linden." I explain.

"That's a nice name. We all hope the best for Linden and Mrs. Mellark." I pause for a moment. That name. The mother who beat me for dropping a cookie on the floor or for speaking at the dinner table. I despised that name. I despised her for driving Katniss out of the trash bins when we were 11, and offering no help. But I forgot about and gave the nurse a soft smile as she exited the doorway. Then I turn to Linden, who is sleeping.

When I was young, I would promise myself if I ever had kids, I would never lay a hand on them. I would treat them every way my mother didn't treat me. With love and compassion. Just because I had to go through that doesn't mean my kids do. I don't exactly understand how you would find the need to lay a hand on a child. So precious and special.

Linden flexes his small fingers as my

fingers dance over his small body.

"You'll get to meet your mom soon." I say. Linden turns his head in my direction, but doesn't open his eyes. I wish he would. I hope he has Katniss' eyes. Those perfect grey orbs.

I spend the next two days going back and forth from the ICU to the NICU. Sleeping in stiff chairs and begging for the moment when Katniss finally opens those grey eyes and asks about our baby. Waiting when I'll get to tell her he's fine and so is she. When I get to tell her Camellia's fine too and we'll be going home in no time.


	28. Chapter 28

_Life goes on, gets so heavy,_

_The wheel breaks the butterfly_

_Every tear a waterfall_

_In the night, the stormy night_

_She close her eyes,_

_In the night, the stormy night_

_Away she flied_

_And dreamed of paradise, _

_Paradise - Coldplay_

* * *

My breath catches in my throat when the weight of the wires is registered. I can only make out I'm in a white-walled room and they are machines beeping every few seconds. And I pause when my stomach feels empty and flat. Wondering what happened to my baby. If the baby's dead or if I'm dead. Where Peeta is. Where Camellia is.

But I whisper his name anyway. Hopeless as to where I am and only praying he's somewhere in earshot.

"Katniss?" I hear a tired sound come from a person's mouth and turn my head speedily in the direction of the voice. I smile when I find messy blond curls and tired blue eyes. "Katniss," he confirms himself. Rising out of chair and instantly by my side. He grasps my hand in his and gives me an excited glance. "you scared me to death." he leans down to kiss my forehead and I find my voice.

"Where's the baby and Camellia? What happened?" I use my free hand to rest my fingers on my temple. My mind terribly confused. I start to panic terribly when I think of the possibilities that my baby didn't make it but Peeta reassures me.

"You went into labor and it was too early. They had to save the baby and you've been unconscious for three days." Peeta explains. I nod and try to figure out the situation. Desperately wanting the security and peacefulness of the woods. Desperately in need of knowing my baby is okay. "And Camellia is at home with your mother."

"Peeta, you look like you haven't slept in days."

"I'm fine. I've just been worried about you. Katniss, I thought I had lost you." tears well up in his blue eyes and I make a some sound between a whimper and a sympathetic reassurance. He clutches my hand for dear life and kisses my forehead. I thought I had lost him too.

"I want to see my baby." Peeta nods and a nurse soon walks in and clarifies that I have enough strength to move, I just need to be put in a wheelchair.

"He's been here every night. Never left your side." she tells me. I chuckle for a moment. Poor Peeta, probably hasn't slept in days. He gives me a soft smile and seats me in the wheelchair.

Anticipation rolls in my chest as I'm wheeled down the hallway. Sadness comes over my like an enemy because I wasn't awake when the baby was born. Then I remember I didn't ask Peeta if it was a boy or girl.

"Is the baby a boy or girl?" I ask, turning my head to meet his gaze as he stands behind the wheelchair. He stops for a moment, opens a door and resumes wheeling.

"Remember when we decided on if it was a girl, we would name her Aster and if it was a boy, Linden?" he asks. Halting the wheelchair to stop in the middle of another room. And all I see is infants. Small, premature, quiet infants. Hooked up to machines.

"Yes." I say, quietly. Wondering if my baby is healthy. Why is my baby off in a room full of sick babies? Was it my own fault that we sit here today? Did I do something stupid during this pregnancy? I lose myself in thought and barely see Peeta retreat to an incubator closet to the wall. A nurse comes to greet him and they talk back and forth. I watch her lift the top of the incubator and Peeta reach inside to pull out a baby. Our baby. My breathing stops all together as Peeta nears.

"I don't think Linden would like the name Aster." Peeta says. I pause as Peeta places a small baby with blond curls in my arms. I look up at Peeta and grin. He has Peeta's curls.

A boy. A little blond boy. I think. He has Peeta's features. His hair and his face. I finally have a mini Peeta. I have a son who looks like his father. And he's healthy. He's moving his hands and his small legs. We're okay.

"He looks like you." I whisper. Lost in the gaze of my son. I hear Peeta chuckle for a moment and he dips down beside my wheelchair and we take in the moment that both Linden and I are okay. And most importantly, Linden is healthy.

I'm soon told of everything that happened in the last three days. I'm told of Linden's development and my own. I'm told of how Linden was premature and how he's such a fighter. I smile at this. Knowing that my son is a strong person.

Linden is transferred to my room after a few hours. And my mother and Camellia are allowed to visit and I gather my daughter in my arms. Busting with joy, I've missed her so much. She swings her legs on the mattress and climbs in my lap.

"I missed you." She admits. Curling her arms around my waist and I kiss her hair.

"I missed you, Cam." I draw back and examine her one last time then give her another embrace. Peeta gathers Linden in his arms when he starts to grow irritated and Camellia churns her head to her little brother, that she has yet to meet. She climbs off my lap and walks to Peeta. He dips down to her level and I watch as Camellia examines her new sibling.

"He's so tiny." she comments. Peeta laughs and I catch my mother smiling slightly.

"He's a baby, Cam." I offer. She turns her head to meet my gaze and then back at Peeta. I notice her hair is braided in two dark braids. I smile at the memory of my mother braiding my hair.

"When can we go home, daddy?" Camellia asks as Peeta hands Linden to me and he flexes his fingers. He hasn't open his eyes once. We still don't know what color eyes he has.

"Soon, Cam. I promise." he picks her up and kisses her forehead and she nods painfully. Resting her head on his shoulder. This is hard on all of us. It's not normal. I want to go home more than she does. I want to take Linden and Peeta out of this wretched hospital and hunt in the woods again.

I soon give Camellia a kiss and my mother leads her out of the hospital room. Peeta curls up at the end of the bed. Resting his back on the footboard. He eyes me and starts to confess.

"I want to go home." he admits. His eyes downcast toward Linden, asleep in his small bed.

"I know. Me too." I say. Sighing a small bit. Dr. Stred said I could go home soon. She comes by every day, checking on me and Linden. She explains what happened when I went into labor.

"More children will be difficult, I recommend against it." she states, one day. I pause for a moment. I nod. I'm happy with the children I'm already blessed with. I don't argue, I obey.

Peeta sticks by my side throughout every needle and poke. He doesn't leave my side, which I'm thankful for. He makes note that we've been in this dreaded hospital for five days and I grow impatient. And finally when Dr. Stred makes her rounds, I urge her.

"When can we be released?" I ask, somewhat sternly. She examines Linden and then raises her gaze toward me.

"You're free to go. Take it easy. Keep a watch on Linden. And don't forget to keep rested." I instantly grin and Peeta rises to his feet. Home. The sound calls my name like the trees do. So desperate to have both of my children under my watch. And to finally be free of this hospital.

And we do so, gathering Linden in my arms and Peeta carrying various bags full of clothes. I pause for a moment when we reach the door that opens to the outside world.

"Peeta," I shake my hand over my throat and wonder where my necklace is. My wedding band. Peeta nods and pulls out a small bag that incloses my necklace and ring. I sigh a sigh of relief.

I urge Peeta to let us walk. And the moment I enter outside, I feel like a thousand bricks have been lifted off my chest. I breath in the familiar scent of fall and smile. Linden's never been outside before. He tilts his head and calms down once more. And we walk home. Free of the hospital. Free of doctors. We're safe now.

I don't feel completely safe until I reach home and Camellia greets me at the door. Her small arms wrapping my waist. I instantly feel content. I have my daughter back. I have my son. I'm home.

My mother greets me with a smile and I'm thankful she took care of Camellia while we couldn't, I don't know what we would have done without her. She lifts Linden in her arms and smiles at him. I notice Haymitch standing in the corner of the room, like he always does. Quiet and watching everyone. I walk toward him and he, for the first time in years, takes me in his arms. He oddly releases me and offers me a kind smile.

"Mama," Camellia tugs on the hem of my shirt after everyone goes their way. Haymitch, home. My mother in the room she has been staying in since she arrived. Peeta working on Linden's room and moving furniture between the nursery and Camellia's new room. Fortunately, Camellia did not argue when Peeta explained Linden needed the nursery. She quietly nodded and became excited about a new room. Peeta promised he would paint it any color she liked, she choose sky blue.

"Mhmm?" I reposition Linden in my arms and Camellia climbs on my knee.

"Is you and Linden going to be okay now?" Camellia asks, talking in her four-year-old language.

"Are." I correct. "And yes. We're going to be fine." I kiss the top of her head and feel finally content with my children in my arms. Camellia lays her head on my shoulder and ever so slightly touches Linden's cheek and he moves his small hand over where her hand just was. We both smile.

"I remember when you were this tiny. Laying in my arms for the first time. You are one of the best things that has ever happened to your father and I, Cam." I smooth her dark hair down and she curls up more toward my front. Her head in the crook of my neck.

"I was this tiny?" she asks. I chuckle softly.

"Yes, you were." I feel the vibration of her laugh and I smile.

Camellia is not stubborn, or rude. She keeps to herself a lot. Only speaks when spoken to. Doesn't pry. She reminds me of Peeta so much. She doesn't have to be corrected often. Only when she's too close to the stove or doesn't do what she's asked. I wonder what Linden will grow up to be. If he'll be stubborn as mule, thanks to me. Or if he'll take after Peeta, too. I hope the latter.

Silence takes over and Camellia starts to hum a tune I've sung to her often. I've taught her many of the songs my father taught me, but one stands out of them all. The one Camellia enjoys the most. The one I enjoy the most.

_Deep in the meadow, under the willow_

_A bed of grass, a soft green pillow,_

_Lay down your head and close your sleepy eyes,_

_And when again they open the sun will rise._

_Here it's safe and here it's warm,_

_Here the daises guard you from every harm,_

_Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true, _

_Here is the place where I love you. _

She keeps humming and I pick up with singing and she follows. Soft whispers as we lay curled on the couch. Linden stirs, his fists uncurling and searching desperately for the origin of the voice. I sung to him often when he was in the womb. He knows his mother's voice. Until his eyelids flicker open and Camellia and I gasp.

"Go get daddy, Cam." I whisper. She darts up the stair way, hollering daddy through out the house and I hear him answer and my mother following closely behind the pack. Peeta settles by my side, and Camellia climbs in his arms. My mother joining us.

Grey Seam eyes my father and I shared, has now been passed down to my son. Who would have thought, blond hair and grey eyes. A perfect mixture of Peeta and I in our child. My mother compliments and Peeta gushes. Camellia asks a thousand questions, but I'm too lost in the moment to understand words. The way my father lives in my children makes me yearn for his arms so badly. It's been decades since he passed, and I'm still wishing he was here. He's supposed to be here. He's supposed to be holding his grandchildren right now. The eeriness of the day when the mines collapsed make a vivid reentrance in my mind. But I shut it out. I refuse to be bogged down with my memories. I'm determined to spend as much time as I can with Linden. To be there when he has all of his first's. He's my last baby.

Soon, Linden closes his eyes again and is lulled to sleep by the voices of his family. My mother soon excuses herself and goes back to her room. Camellia doesn't want to leave Linden or me. She has the caring vertue that she probably got from Peeta and my mother. Something I doubt she got from me.

Camellia falls asleep and Peeta carries her up to her room and I gather Linden in my arms and walk into our bedroom for the first time since I woke up to pains and bleeding. Everything is clean and the bed is made. I inhale and lay Linden in the same crib that held Camellia. I smile. I missed having a baby around.

Peeta comes in, runs his fingers through his blond locks and exhales as he takes off his shoes. We both missed home. We both missed our own bed. I've missed his arms.

I crawl into his grasp and he locks his arms around my frame and I bury my head into his shoulder.

"I missed you so much. You don't know how many times I paced that hospital. How many times I thought I would be raising Cam and Linden on my own."Peeta admits. His voice breaking. I tighten my hands around his face and he buries his face in my hair. Clinging to me for dear life. A sob slowly ripping through his chest.

There are times when tables turn and I'm the one calming Peeta down. Just like he does to me. Where I'm the glue holding his pieces together. This is one of those times.

"I thought I lost you. And it killed me." I let him ramble and I let him sob. He's been holding it in for days, because we didn't have the privacy of our home in the hospital.

"I'm here now. We're both here now." I whisper. I find my way to his lips. He tastes of saltwater and pain. We break apart and fall asleep in each other's embrace.

I wake up hours later to a wailing Linden. Carefully I pull away from Peeta's grasp and gather Linden into my arms. He continues to cry his little heart out and I end up pacing the halls. Up and down and back again. Soon, Camellia comes stumbling out of her room. He's awoken her. Camellia was a quiet baby. Linden I can already tell, will not be a quiet child.

"Go back to bed, Cam. It's okay." She offers me a pleading glance.

"You could rock him," I hear. I find my mother standing at the end of the hallway, Linden has managed to wake up everyone in the house besides Peeta. He's a heavy sleeper.

"Camellia was never like this, I could always calm her down." I tell her.

"It's his first night at home, Katniss. He's already been through a lot for a baby." I take her advice and she goes back in her room. I walk to the nursery and start rocking Linden. Desperate for sleep. Desperate for him to stop crying. Camellia trails in not long after I've arrived. She climbs in my lap and starts to hum a different melody. She lays her head on my chest and watches Linden. He stops crying when he hears her melody.

"He likes you." I smile. Finally thankful Linden is no longer crying and I've found a remedy to his fits; singing and his big sister.

After a few minutes Camellia falls asleep, as does Linden and I soon follow.

I wake up to Peeta smiling in my line of vision and Camellia climbing off my lap as she wraps her arms around Peeta's neck.

"Did you all sleep in here?" Peeta asks. I nod.

"Linden wouldn't stop crying until Cam came in here. And we fell asleep." I yawn and rise to my feet. Laying Linden in his crib while I stretch my limbs.

* * *

Peeta has taken off work until he knows Linden and I are back to normal, so he stays with the children while I finally return to the woods. I make sure to give Linden a feeding before I leave. Camellia often asks to go with me. I allow so and she happily runs to go change.

We've been to the woods many times before, but I've never taken her deep into the woods. We've only made trips to the meadow and she knows I hunt in the woods.

She follows me out the door and I grab her hand as we pass through town. We make it to the fence and I teach her how to crawl through. She's only four, but she's taken to the woods like a natural. Her tread is silent, not as silent as it should be, but extremely quieter than her father's.

"Want to go somewhere special?" I ask Camellia. I'm worried that I'm not spending enough time with her because of Linden. He needs extra attention because of his premature state. He needs more feedings than she did to build his strength. She nods excitedly and we trek to the lake. Where my father took me. Where I spent my days when I was Camellia's age.

She gasps and runs to the river bank when we arrive. I laugh and watch her swish her hands in the water. I watch her smile as she finds tadpoles and minnows. She eventually runs back into my lap sometime later.

"I'm so proud of you. You're doing so well with your little brother." I expected maybe jealousy, but Camellia has shown no signs of that. She happily helps me anytime I need her to, and she loves Linden. She offers me a smile and we sit on the grass.

"Mama, can I ask you a question?"

"Of course."

"Why does daddy have a fake leg?" I hesitate to answer. This question is only the first of many she'll ask. Surprisingly, she's never asked before.

"He got hurt when he was younger and it was either him or his leg." I say. She nods her head and returns to picking flowers or finding things in the grass.

"Did he get hurt a lot?"

"More than normal when he was younger, yes." I don't add I got hurt often thanks to two arenas. I veer away from answers that would lead to questions about the games and our past. I pray Cam drops the subject. And she does. Her face saddens but she doesn't ask anymore questions.

I show her my bow and she admits that she would like to learn. I promise to make a bow just for her, so she can practice. She nods happily and we make our way home.

When we do get home, Peeta's trying to calm a very fussy Linden, which he's not calming down and Peeta looks so tired. Camellia was always a very quiet baby. Loud babies are new for us. I take him in my grasp and he seems to calm down. I find out he's just hungry.

My mother left a few days ago. She claimed that the hospital in four needed her, and she reluctantly left. I was sad to see her go, because I know she won't be coming back soon. I'll miss her.

We soon get back to our normal routine. Peeta goes back to work, and I'm left at home with Camellia and Linden. Camellia finally broke me and I let her hold Linden. She's been asking for days. And she sits on the couch, pillows by her sides and I slip him in her lap. She laughs and Linden opens his grey eyes and finds his sister and makes a facial expression that favors a smile. Camellia gushes and squeals with laughter.

Linden, I can already tell, is stubborn. And I sigh because he gets it from me. The way there's days when he doesn't want to latch on or he doesn't want to sleep. Where he just cries and cries. Usually, Peeta will take him, if he's home and he'll stop for a while, but I've learned he likes melodies. That's what puts him to sleep in a minute flat.

Linden's first smile makes the entire house go mad with laughter and smiles. Because we're so thankful. I could have easily lost him that night. I could have came home with empty arms.

Linden continues to grow at a normal rate and Dr. Stred has stated there's no need to worry anymore. We're out of the woods. I thank the stars when I hear this news, but I'll always worry about my children. I'll always be deathly afraid that some prowler will rip my children from my grasp and I'll be left with nothing.

Camellia's questions become more and more common. And I know, we'll never be able to keep the past from them. She already knows I scream in my sleep. She already knows her father goes insanely quiet at times and hangs on to the back of a chair for dear life. She often crawls in bed with us when she hears me sob into Peeta's chest.

One night, when my nightmares are considerably worse. I see Peeta and the kids being trapped, screaming for help. For me to come get them, but I'm restrained and I watch their blood drip on the floor. I watch Snow taunt me with my own child.

I wake with a start and Peeta stirs. Wrapping his arms around my frame as his lips brush my cheek and I suck in breaths while I try to calm. But I remove myself from his grasp and tread across the hallway. Finding Camellia asleep in her bed. Her dark hair fanned out around her head. She's a light sleeper and instantly wakes.

"It's okay, sweetie." I reassure. She holds her arms out for me and she quickly wraps her arms around my neck and her legs around my waist. She climbs on top of Peeta and he makes a grunt as she clearly is very heavy to be climbing on people, but he smiles and she giggles. I find Linden in his crib and he grasps his fingers instantly in my hair and we climb into the bed once more. Peeta offers me a glance of concern and I shake my head.

In this tangle of limbs, I feel safe with my children by my side. My son sleeping peacefully on my chest. My children ward the nightmares away. They're too happy for their to be darkness. They're not scarred or afraid of the future. They just love their parents and each other. And I'm so glad Peeta took the time to convince me. I'm so glad he's here to help me raise our children. I'm so glad he didn't die in those arenas.

* * *

Winter sets in and I spend my time sitting on that same windowsill I did years ago. When I spent my time hoping for something more, deep inside. Now I have that more. I have that more laying in my arms. Watching the snowflakes hit the window. The snow gathering on the ground. Linden makes those precious baby sounds I never get sick of. Beating his hands on the window and looking up at me.

He's three months old now. Stubborn and loud. But so lovable. Camellia laughs as Linden squeals at her then returns to her drawing. Markers and pencils thrown on the floor and Peeta poaching the fire then returning to a cake he's been working on for an order.

"Camellia, want the icing?" Peeta asks. Cameilla shoots up off the floor in record time. Happily taking the bowl from his grasp and licking her fingers. I chuckle and Linden squeaks because she has something he wants.

"You can't have that, little man." he gives me a sad look and puffs out that little lip and I distract him with one of his toys before he starts crying. He takes it happily and ignores the icing.

Haymitch visits often and bonds with the children. Vicci doesn't come over as often. She's been staying inside a lot because of her arthritis. But she did come see Linden when we first came home, she gushed over him like everyone else did.

But lately, I've been thinking about how Camellia will be going to school in the fall. It's a long time away, but it is nearing. She already tells me everyday about how her friend, Pip sister goes to school and she wants to go too. And I'm not worried about them teaching the history of the games in kindergarten, that's too harsh for them. They wouldn't. I am worried about Camellia being treated differently than the other kids, just because her last name is Mellark. I don't want her fawned over just because she's the daughter of the Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark. She'll wonder why she's getting special treatment because of her parents. She doesn't know what we were to Panem. And I hate that she's got to suffer because of us.

But I dismiss it until I have to worry about it. Camellia will love school. Maybe they'll shrug off the fact her last name is Mellark.

I try not to worry about the complicated things. If I start to worry I'll have to make my list. The list Peeta and I made late one night when neither of us could sleep because of our nightmares. The mornings where I have to repeat the list because I won't get out of bed. And I feel like a fool because all I do is sit there and listen to the cries of my children until my insides scream and I'm on my feet, gathering Linden in my arms. Singing him the song my father sang to me.

Then there are good days when I wake with a smile and trek out to the woods with Camellia or go feed Haymitch's geese and watch Linden squeal over them. When I feel happy and content with my children and my husband. I feel at home. Like I've finally found what I've been searching for my entire life. The security of knowing your loved and needed. Where war does not exist. Where my children will not fear their 12th birthday and I'm not the symbol of the rebellion. Where Peeta and I can laugh and poke fun at each other. Where we can fight like dogs and still make up. The way he dries my tears when I wake up thrashing around from nightmares. How our children happily climb in bed with us when they hear our screams.

That's home. That's our, broken, happy, treacherous, endearing, home.

* * *

Spring comes quickly and before I know it, Linden's sitting up and rolling over. Getting into things he shouldn't and making me love him more and more everyday. And Camellia's preparing for school in the fall. More excited than ever. And I cringe. She's growing up. She's growing before my eyes. My first born, dark-haired, blue-eyed, little girl. I wonder where time went. How quickly time passed. How short of a time it was when I held her in my arms that summer morning.

Right before my eyes, Linden's crawling. Already saying mama and daddy. Trying to say Camellia. And I'm holding him in my arms as Peeta and I watch our little girl walk to school. Turning around to give us a wave of her hand. I quickly return it and watch two braids run down the road. Peeta shouting, "Don't forget to sing!" Camellia turns around and gives him a nod. And she flies down the road. And apart of me goes down the road with her because Camellia stole my heart a long time ago. And now I stand where my father stood. Watching his little girl go to school. I give Peeta a look I know he understands.

Oh, how time repeats itself.

* * *

A\N: Hey everyone! Longer chapter than normal, but I wanted to get it in. Thank you all for your reviews and kind words. It means so much. :) Next chapter will be up shortly!

-Joy


	29. Chapter 29: Epilogue

_Roses love sunshine, violets love dew,_

_Angels in Heaven know I love you,_

_Know I love you, dear, know I love you,_

_Angels in Heaven know I love you._

_The Valley Song _

* * *

I didn't realize how attached Linden had become to Cam until she was gone for the entire day at her first day of school. He squalled the entire afternoon. Trying to say her name. He instantly perked up when Peeta came through the door with Camellia hanging on to his hand. She wore a proud grin on her face as she ran up to me and gave Linden a big kiss. He laughed.

"How was your first day?" I asked. She rested her blue eyes on mine, they were full of excitement.

"It was great! I met a girl named Len and we colored and I learned some of my ABC's!" she exclaimed. Jumping on the balls of her feet. I heard Peeta chuckle as she dumped the items that were in her small backpack on the kitchen table. Pulling out papers that were scribbled on and a note from her teacher. Linden squealed as I set him down and he crawled toward Cam. She hopelessly tried to pick him up, but it ended in Peeta and I gasping and Camellia carefully setting him back on the floor to play with his toys. She forgotten that he was still fragile, even at almost a year old.

I unfolded the letter and leaned against the kitchen countertop. Linden at my ankles, once again. He made sure I never left his sight.

_Dear Mr and Mrs Mellark,_

_I am so pleased to have your daughter in my class. Camellia seems very well-mannered and smart. Please let me know if you or Camellia need anything at all._

_sincerely,_

_Ms. Hawthorne_

I gasped and Peeta shot me a glance. I handed him the letter. And he shared the same look I had on my face.

"I'm going down to the school." I told Peeta. He nodded and I quickly changed Linden into some different clothes and explained to Camellia I would be back soon. School was out only a few moments ago, she should be there.

I wondered which Hawthorne was teaching my daughter. I wasn't mad, I was quite shocked, actually. I didn't know any of them had returned to 12.

Linden squeaked as we passed through town. Waving at strangers and pointing at random objects. He enjoyed going out, so I thought it would be good to take him with me.

I arrived in the newly built school building and quickly found my way to the kindergarten class room. Everyone we passed in the hallways waved at Linden and he quickly giggled in return. He was so accepting of people and he loved everyone.

"Posy?" I whispered. Walking in the door of the room to find the little girl I hadn't seen in almost twenty years. She was a woman now.

"Katniss!" she squealed and wrapped her arms around my frame, careful not to squish Linden. She draws back and opens her mouth to speak. "I was so shocked to know Camellia was in my class. She's beautiful, Katniss." I smile.

"I didn't know you came back to 12." I admit. She nods.

"I missed home. I stayed with mom until a few years ago and went to school for teaching and found out 12 needed teachers, and here I am." she smiles and offers a grin to Linden. He laughs. "Who's this little cutie?" Posy asks.

"This is Linden." Posy manages to get a giggle out of Linden and I eventually let him crawl over to play with the toys.

"Katniss Everdeen. Married, with beautiful children. What happened to you?" I laugh as we sit down and I keep an eye on Linden. Happily playing with a toy train.

"A lot. It was hard after the war, but I got through it." she nods and offers a sympathetic glance. "But, enough about me. How are you? And your family?"

"Oh, I love it down here. I love teaching. Mom's doing fine. She decided to stay in two with Gale and Rory and Vick are in two, also. Rory's getting married soon." I chuckle softly at the memory of young Rory Hawthorne.

"How's Gale? I used to see him at the Annual Celebrations, but with the kids and all, we haven't gone in the last few years." I say.

"Gale's Gale, Katniss. Stubborn as a mule. He told the whole family he was engaged, then he called it off. I don't know what's wrong with him. He's been acting so different." I wince. Pained that Gale is not happy. "I'm sure he's fine. He's got a good job and he calls me, asks about you."

We talk about anything and everything until Linden begins to grow bored and tired. I scoop him up and he settles his head on my shoulder.

"Tell me if Camellia needs anything!" Posy adds as I walk out the doorway, I nod and trek through town and find my way back home.

Peeta stands in the kitchen, and Camellia meets me at the door. I take Linden to his room for a nap and walk back down the stairs.

"Posy Hawthorne is Cam's teacher." I tell Peeta.

"That's why you were gone so long." he muses.

"She's doing good. Everyone is." Peeta nods and calls Cam over to the table for dinner.

* * *

Camellia grows more in love with school everyday and comes home in high spirits. Linden's learned that his sister is gone during the day and doesn't cry as often.

But everyday, I wake up to my children's faces and know they deserve to know what happened such a long time ago. They need to know. I would be depriving them of their thankfulness for freedom if I didn't explain the country they were born in didn't have the freedom they do now.

And I knew that Camellia would get some sort of reaction at school with her last name, and people finding out that she was our daughter. She didn't mind much, but she did ask me why one day. I didn't go into detail.

"When your daddy and I were much younger, our country was in a terrible state. We didn't have what you have now. There were certain circumstances in which we made an impression on people and they haven't forgotten." she nodded and quietly accepted the fact I wasn't going to talk about it any longer.

Linden grew quickly and we had already celebrated his first birthday. He was so cute with his head full of blond curls and chocolate frosting smeared all over his face.

I managed to make a small bow for Camellia and I taught her to shoot. It was a great feeling to know I handed it down to her and she took to it quickly. She begged me to take her to the woods every weekend, we kind of made a routine of it; going to the woods every weekend. Peeta watched Linden while Camellia and I practiced our shooting.

Linden loved the outdoors, also. Of course he tried to put everything in his mouth. But I took him outside often.

He first started walking when Peeta and I were sitting on the couch, watching one of the Capitol broadcasts and Camellia was curled on Peeta's lap. Linden was playing on the floor and he suddenly sat up and walked toward me. We had been trying to teach him, but this was the first time he walked on his own. He climbed up the couch and into my lap and Peeta and I both shared a glance.

Our last baby was already walking.

Soon, our children wouldn't need us. They would grow up and leave home, and wouldn't need their old parents. I feared those days. When it would be just Peeta and I in this big house. Grey-haired and deaf. Once again, I found myself hating time.

But I picked up Linden and betrayed my thoughts. We praised him and he laughed. His adorable little toddler laugh. Tickling his little stomach and watching him laugh was my favorite thing in the world.

Camellia only grew more attached to Peeta as she grew older. Baking with him, painting with him. Peeta was wrapped around her finger since birth. They shared the same qualities. While Linden followed me. He was always on my hip and never let me out of his sight. Of course, he loved Peeta too, but if I was not around, all hell broke loose.

Everything was simply a routine. Peeta left for the bakery every morning. Peeta took Cam to school on his way to the bakery. I stayed home with Linden. Sometimes Haymitch came over and watched him while I ventured to the woods.

Time seemed like it was passing so quickly. And I couldn't stop it. I just had to stand back and watch my children mature. Watch Peeta and I grow grey hair and start to have aches and pains. I chuckled at the thought of Peeta and I old and grey.

Camellia's questions only grew more frequent and Peeta and I shared many glances over the dinner table when she suddenly decided to ask her questions.

_"What does this necklace really mean?"_

_"Why do people freak out when I tell them my last name?"_

_"How does everyone know you?"_

_"Why do you never take off your necklace, mama?"_

I couldn't stop her questions, I knew they would come. I usually waited for the weekends and took her to the woods with me. I told her some things. Things that she could handle at such a young age.

"Your father gave me that necklace a very long time ago."

"A lot of people knew your father's side of the family."

"I'll tell you when you're older."

"It was the last thing I had of your father for a short period of time."

Some questions I tried to answer, some I just could not answer. And I would tell Peeta after the kids were asleep, about everything she was asking.

"I don't want to scare her." I admitted. He slung his arm around my waist and pulled me onto his chest. He sighed deeply and said,

"Don't worry about it now. She's still too young to know everything. When the time comes, we'll tell her." I nodded and Peeta kissed my temple. He always knew what to say to reassure me. But I could tell he was scared too. He didn't want to tell our children about our violent childhood either.

We were almost standing up to go upstairs to bed when the padding of small feet down the stairs caught my attention. Camellia came walking down the stairs, tiredly rubbing her eyes.

"I can't sleep." she muttered. I held out my arms and she squeezed in between Peeta and I in front of the hearth. The warmth of the fire radiating through the house.

I stroked her hair and she nuzzled her head in Peeta's shoulder. I knew that she had grown a relationship with Peeta like I had with my father. I loved watching Camellia and Peeta together. He was always so content with Cam in his arms. Our shoulders relaxed and the tension of worry fled when our children were around.

Eventually, Camellia finally found sleep and I followed Peeta upstairs as he tucked her limp body in her bed. And peeking in on Linden, I found he was well also.

I enjoyed my days with Linden. He reminded me so much of his father and I became more and more thankful for Peeta's presence everyday. As I grew older, I realized that the small things matter the most. Linden's small yawn in the mornings. How Peeta takes his coffee. How Camellia walks when she's tired. Every one of those small things made my life a little more brighter.

The grief numbed over the years. I was happier than I had been in years. Everything seemed complete. Expect my days of depressions, but those were rare. Peeta's flashbacks were even more rare. He pretty much learned to control them and he hadn't had a flashback in years. Of course, our nightmares never left. I don't think they ever will.

Of course, our lives weren't perfect. We weren't the happiest people in the world and we had our faults. Camellia would talk back or I would rub Peeta the wrong way. Most of time, he came home exhausted and I spent my entire day watching a one-year old. I missed him and he just wanted to sleep. There were days when we didn't speak to each other. Mostly on my account, I was too stubborn for my own good. But those were rare, because we did have children to think about. Besides, I knew how Peeta's childhood was and how his house was never a pleasant place and I didn't want that for our children. So, we kept our spats to ourselves if we had them. But he would draw me in with those eyes and I couldn't stay mad at him.

Peeta and I never went to the Annual Celebrations anymore. With Camellia in school and Linden, we just didn't feel like leaving them to go relive the past. I got calls from my mother often. Annie, too. Johanna called, sometimes. Everyone had mostly moved on. It had been almost 22 years since the war, things were strangely back to normal. Peeta and I's generation are married with children that don't have to grow up like we did. I think we all went in the battlefield hoping for this day.

Mostly, the Capitol kept quiet about the war and us. But every so often, they paid tribute to the survivors and the people who gave their life for freedom. And my name popped up on those days. And one of those days, is when Camellia caught sight of the television.

They referred to me as the Mockingjay and Camellia shot me a glance and pulled her locket out of her shirt. Laying it in the palm of her hand she looked up at me. I gave her a sad smile.

"Mama?" she muttered. I know a thousand questions were flying through her mind. I caught Peeta's eyes trained on mine and I nodded. I was prepared to tell her the reasons behind why my name was household. Nothing about the Games. She was too young for that.

I pulled Linden into my lap and kissed his blond head full of curls. He was so happy. So innocent. Peeta and I were all he needed and one day he would have to be sent out to a cruel world. A world where he didn't need his parents. A world I hope is better than mine.

Peeta drifted to my side and I took in a ragged breath.

"Do you know what war is?" I asked. Camellia gave me a reserved look, and I could feel Peeta growing tense at the memory.

"Where two causes fight." I nodded. She was smart for such a young age. She had a way of figuring things out.

"Right. Honey, before you were born, there was a big war. Your father and I were on the front lines of that war." Peeta's hand found mine and we both shared an understanding glance. "We lost people we loved in that war." a silent tear ran down my cheek and Camellia remained silent. Linden turned around in my lap and gave me a sad glance before he wrapped his tiny toddler arms around my neck. He was too young to understand what I said but he could tell I was upset. I laughed softly and wrapped my arms around his small frame.

"I'm sorry," I heard Camellia whisper. I handed over Linden to Peeta and motioned Camellia over. She climbed in my lap and buried her face in my neck. I kissed her head and whispered firmly.

"Listen to me, I swear to you Camellia, that will never happen to you. You will never have to go through war." she nodded her small head and Peeta gave me look of approval. I smiled at Linden. Peeta was holding him where their faces were right next to each other. Peeta's features were all over Linden's. Right down to the way they smiled.

After that, Camellia didn't really find the need to ask more questions. She always wore the necklace I gave her and I caught her staring at it in the palm of her hand often. I know she was begging for more answers, but she was only seven. She was so young. I wanted to keep her safe from the past as long as I could. But the past had already affected her. The past affected her parents, therefore affecting her.

We trekked out to the meadow one weekend. Peeta was holding Linden as we walked through town to the meadow. Camellia was by my side, her bow in hand.

Peeta put down Linden and he followed Camellia through the dandelions that were growing in early spring. Peeta and I sat down by an old willow tree and we watched the kids play.

"Have I ever told you that I'm so thankful you were diligent for fifteen years about kids?" I mused. Lacing my fingers with his. He laughed softly.

"You're just stubborn."

"Very true."

I laughed as I watched Camellia chase after Linden. Their squeals filling the air.

"Remember when they were just babies?" I asked. We were already at the stage where we missed their baby days. Missed how they needed us so much. How young we used to be. Peeta's eyes darted to mine and he smiled softly.

"I'll never forget." his voice was full of yesterday. I know he was remembering the moments when they were infants. How happy and inexperienced we were. How unstable we were.

"Aren't you just so excited for the days when every boy in town will be at our door?" my voice was full of sarcasm. Peeta sighed heavily and rolled his eyes.

"I'm going to have to get a gun." I laughed and slapped his arm.

A quiet moment passed and the kids came back over and wedged themselves between Peeta and I. Linden was explaining in depth about something to Peeta and Camellia handed me a dandelion. I kissed her head and twisted the flower between my fingers.

_Hope._

"I love you," I whispered to her.

"I love you, mama." she replied. Looking at me with her father's eyes.

"And I love you, my boys." I tugged on Linden's arm and he squealed and quickly I kissed Peeta's lips. Camellia squirmed.

"Gross!" she exclaimed. Peeta and I laughed.

We watched the sun dip into the horizon and I held my children close. Humming my father's favorite song and watching Peeta smile. And I realized, Peeta and our children were all I ever needed to survive.

I held the promise of a better tomorrow, in my arms. My children were that promise. Even in the days of my depression, I have Camellia and Linden to bring a smile to my face. And I have Peeta to comfort me. I have more than I ever deserved; a family.

* * *

A/N: I want to thank every loyal follower and reviewer who has read this story. Who has laughed, who has cried. It means so much more than you will ever know. I want to thank Suzanne Collins for writing such a strong, moving, emotional story. And giving me the courage to put my writing out in the open.

I have enjoyed writing this story so much. I have learned so much and have met so many kind people.

This is the epilogue chapter, and therefore, the last chapter of, Glass Hearts. I am so glad that I have completed this story, but I'm heartbroken it's over. I've had such an amazing journey writing this.

I don't want to lose touch with you guys. Please, if you have a tumblr, follow me! I would love to stay in touch with you all:

even-the-birds-listen dot tumblr dot com

I do have one-shots planned, so add me on your follows and be notified when I upload one-shots based off this story!

I love you all so much and I'm so thankful that I have amazing fans like you all. I hope to talk to you all in the very near future.

God bless, and may the odds be ever in your favor.

-Joy


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